


To Each Their Own

by SylvieW



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abusive Kate Argent, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Alternate Universe - slavery?, Author Stiles, Cuddling, Dubious Consent, Full Moon, Heat Sex, Hopeful Ending, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Omega Derek, Rimming, Sassy Derek, a/b/o dynamics, bed sharing, dub-con for multiple reasons, the weirdest kind of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11384442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvieW/pseuds/SylvieW
Summary: Stiles agrees to become the owner of a werewolf with some very special needs. Derek has been abused for so long he’s nearly feral. Stiles has to find a way to gain his trust before Derek’s heat, or he could be put down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is… I don’t know, it’s an idea that formed and actually made it to paper then hung out on my computer, while my usual beta avoided it like the plague. Like the majority of slave AUs, this is hella problematic, but I worked really hard on it, so I’m going to post it anyway, un-beta’d. If this is not your cup of tea, feel free to give it a pass. When this is finished posting, I will return to my usual fluff. 
> 
> If you feel something isn’t tagged that should be, let me know and I’ll try to add it. Also, if you feel you’d like further warnings before reading, let me know and I’ll do my best to elaborate in the comments for you.

******

Stiles whistled as pulled into Scott and Allison’s driveway. His radio was hard to hear on a good day, but with the air conditioning broken (again) and the windows down, it was virtually impossible to make out. So Stiles made his own music, spinning through songs that rattled around in his brain.

He cut the engine and bounced up to the front door. He didn’t bother to knock, partly because this was Scott’s house and Stiles was always welcome, and partly because it was Wednesday. Stiles always came for dinner on Wednesdays. It was a tradition that Allison had started when she and Scott got serious. It was what made Stiles really start considering her a friend. She had seen how close Scott and Stiles were and wanted to make sure they maintained that relationship, as she and Scott strengthened their own.

When Wednesday dinners had started, they’d been held in the cheap student apartment Scott and Stiles had shared at college. Now they were at Allison and Scott’s suburban home. The five-story walk-up and paper plates had been replaced with a neatly trimmed lawn and china that matched. 

Sometimes Stiles still had a hard time picturing his goofy best friend as a married young professional. Scott was a legitimate _adult _. It was strange for Stiles, who’d always felt older, to see Scott being the responsible citizen, while Stiles himself was still floundering. Sure, he had a house of his own, but he rarely cut the grass, and when he did, he usually bribed the neighbour’s kid to do it. His cupboards were lined with a hodge-podge of different plates and bowls and cups that he’d collected over the years, rather than with neat stacks from a perfect set. Stiles' career was going well, enough that he could write full time, but married? He couldn’t even find someone to go on a second date, let alone settle down with.__

__Maybe that was the big difference. Scott had Allison to ground him and push him to be his best self. Stiles had no one._ _

__“Hey,” Stiles called out at he toed off his shoes. Even though they knew he was coming, Stiles always made as much noise as possible when coming into the house. It had only taken walking in on them having sex once to learn that lesson._ _

__“Oh, shit,” Scott said, then called louder. “Umm, we’re in the living room.”_ _

__Stiles frowned. That wasn’t the usual greeting he got. He hurried down to the living room. “What’s wrong?” He asked. Scott was sitting on the couch, with his arms wrapped around Allison as she sobbed. Isaac, their werewolf, sat on her other side stroking her shoulder._ _

__“My aunt-- I--” Allison broke off, shaking her head. Isaac gave a small whimper, then turned and pressed her face into his neck._ _

__“Allison’s aunt just got arrested,” Scott explained quietly._ _

__“Holy shit, I’m so sorry,” Stiles said. He scrambled to remember what he knew about Allison’s extended family. He recalled meeting her aunt Kate a couple of times over the years. She’d been nice enough to him, but there was something unsettling about her that had always kept him on edge. “I’m sure your dad will get her a really good lawyer.” Stiles was aiming for reassurance, but the way Allison’s body tensed, he was pretty sure he’d missed the mark._ _

__“My father isn’t going to get her anything! She should be locked up and never let out.” She pushed off the couch, pacing away from them. “How could she do this? How could anyone ever do something so horrible?”_ _

__Now Stiles really wanted to know what she’d been arrested for, but he didn’t want to put his foot in his mouth again. He looked at Scott and raised an eyebrow._ _

__Scott sighed. “You know how Allison’s family are really involved in the werewolf trade?”_ _

__“Sure,” Stiles said with a shrug. Argent was one of the top names in werewolf acquisition and supplies. In order to purchase a werewolf, you had to be approved by the government. But the Argents were the ones that actually supplied them, as well as selling all sorts of guides, toys, and caretaking supplies. In fact, Isaac was Allison’s high school graduation present._ _

__Some people thought it was an Argent who’d originally started trapping and taming werewolves, but that was hundreds of years ago. No one really thought about it much. The world didn’t talk about what werewolves did before they were tamed._ _

__Werewolves had a unique place in society. Some people saw them as pets, others as family members, yet more used them as their main labour force. All werewolves had to be registered with the government, including their power status, and “main purpose.” As if someone needed a purpose beyond existing._ _

__“Kate’s had werewolves for years, obviously,” Scott said, and Stiles nodded. “But someone recently got proof that she wasn’t taking proper care of them and sent it to the police. They were all pretty messed up, but one of them…” Scott hesitated, eyes flicking to Isaac and Allison._ _

__“She was abusing them, Scott! She hurt him, and now he’s going to be murdered,” Allison spat. Isaac curled his shoulders in._ _

__“They don’t have to put him down,” Isaac insisted “They can find him a new owner.”_ _

__The fight drained out of Allison and she returned to her place on the couch. “There’s no one to take him, Isaac. He’s too close to feral. No one want’s a feral werewolf with his classification.”_ _

__“What’s his classification?” Stiles asked.  
Classifications referred to the main purposes that a werewolf was trained for. Purposes ranged from domestic (child care, cooking, cleaning, companionship,) to manual labour (factories, farms, construction.) Stiles saw werewolves everywhere, the cashier at Wal-Mart, the nanny in the park down the street, but he never really thought about them. They were just there. Part of the things that made the world go round. He was pretty sure that Isaac’s main purpose was classified as companionship, but he did other domestic things as well, and he worked with Allison as a clerk at her office._ _

__“Physical intimacy,” Allison said. Stiles whistled, and Scott looked confused. “Sex, Scott,” Allison said. “Derek’s main purpose is sex. In fact, he’s part of the werewolf breed that goes into heats. It’s not just what he’s used for, he _needs_ it.”_ _

__“Don’t they have suppressants and things now?” Stiles asked._ _

__“Sort of,” Allison said. “But they’re pretty hit and miss. The stress of the police swarming the house triggered his heat and they tried to keep him sedated for it, but he freaked out and got really aggressive. One of the handlers was hurt.”_ _

__“There must be someone who can take him. Derek is a good wolf,” Isaac said, eyes filled with sorrow. It hadn’t occurred to Stiles that Isaac probably knew Kate’s wolves. Owners liked to bring their werewolves to socialize with each other, hoping it would make up for the lack of a pack._ _

__“Maybe there would be, but there’s no time,” Allison said. “We need someone registered and willing to advocate for him before the government rep gets here and officially marks him feral. Once they make the decision to put him down, it’s nearly impossible to overturn."_ _

__“It’s there anyone in your family that’s willing to take him?” Scott asked._ _

__“Everyone’s already scrambling to deal with the other werewolves she owned or was training. Dad took on his first wolf in years. We even sent one to my cousin down south,” Allison explained. “I want to help him, I do, but…”_ _

__“Ally, we can’t,” Scott said, hand sliding to her stomach._ _

__“Whoa. Wait, what?” Stiles said gesturing to Scott’s hand._ _

__Allison blushed. “I just found out last week. We’re going to the doctor tomorrow for an official confirmation, but...I’m pregnant.”_ _

__“Wow, that’s amazing, Allison. Congratulations.” Stiles leaned down to hug her, then patted Scott on the back. They’d been married for a year and a half and been trying for a baby nearly as long. It was thrilling news, but it made it abundantly clear that they couldn’t risk taking on a new werewolf right now, especially one with aggression issues._ _

__The group fell silent, all thinking the same thing. “Don’t we know anyone who’d agree to take him?”_ _

__“Even if they’d agree to it, they need to be certified, and even those who are, a lot of them don’t get approved for his classification because it’s more work,” Allison said. Her eyes were starting to brim with tears again._ _

__That’s when it hit Stiles. “I’m certified.”_ _

__“What?” Allison said, blinking up at him._ _

__“I’m certified,” Stiles repeated. “Because he’s the sheriff, my dad had to get certified in case of an emergency. As part of his household, once I turned 16, I had to be certified too. When I moved out, it was easier to just keep renewing my license instead of letting it lapse.”_ _

__“So, you could take him?” Isaac asked. “You’d do that?”_ _

__Allison looked torn. “Stiles, that’s a big commitment. All werewolves take a lot of time, money, work, and emotional effort. Derek will need even more.”_ _

__“I have the time,” Stiles said. “I do have my work at home, and I just got the subject for my next book approved, so I’m good for money. I know it will be hard work, but it’s worth it, right? The connection you have with your wolf is worth it.” He looked to where Isaac was holding Allison’s hand, with Scott’s resting over both. Isaac wasn’t just a pet. He was part of their family, the love of her life just as much as Scott, even if it was in a different way._ _

__“You won’t be able to enter a new relationship for a while,” Allison said. “Derek will need your full attention, and the smell of someone else on you could make his instincts freak out.”_ _

__Stiles shrugged. “It’s not like I've got relationship prospects lined up out the door. All my past relationships were shit, and truthfully? Lately, I’ve been tired of trying. I hate being lonely, but no one I’ve met really gets me enough to let them in. If I focus on this, maybe I won't be so focused on being single.”_ _

__Scott looked at him seriously. He had to know how much Stiles had always longed for a partner, the type of true connection his parents had, and how disappointed he’d been in the past when the person he’d tried to love wasn’t what he’d thought. “What about the sex?” Scott asked._ _

__“Derek is very attractive, but he’s… damaged,” Allison said sadly. “It’s not an option to forgo it, but it won’t be easily managed either.”_ _

__Stiles took a moment to reflect on that. This wasn’t the kind of thing to rush into without considerable thought, but…_ _

__”I'll figure it out," Stiles said. "We could at least set up a meeting right? If he absolutely detests me, there's nothing I can do, but we should at least try.”_ _

__Allison rose from the couch and embraced Stiles. “Thank you so much,” she said._ _

__“It’s the least I can do,” Stiles said. And he really thought it was. He was sure he’d never be able to live with himself if he let that werewolf be put down, knowing he could have at least tried._ _

__***_ _

__Allison arranged for Stiles to meet Derek the next day. The Argents' main building was over an hour away, so she met him at his house before they drove together to the Argents’ training and rehabilitation centre. The massive gray square building was where they housed all of their wolves before sending them off to their new owners. Since they guaranteed their patrons a healthy werewolf with at least basic training, it wasn’t just living quarters. It housed a full medical facility and training center._ _

__Stiles eyed the neatly painted walls and the mass-produced water lily prints as he and Allison approached the front desk. He wondered how Kate’s arrest and pending conviction would affect the Argents' business, and therefore all the wolves kept here._ _

__Allison’s father met them at the desk and brought them to his office. Allison hugged him before taking her seat. Stiles was taken aback by how tired the man looked. Stiles thought Chris had always had a kind of youthful strength despite his greying beard. Today he looked downright old._ _

__He asked Stiles a series of questions, about his certification, his experience with werewolves, his hobbies, occupation, and current relationships._ _

__“Usually we use this information to fit people with the right werewolf, but since you already have someone in mind…” Chris trailed off. “Mr. Stilinski, are you certain you're up for this? It’s not going to be easy.”_ _

__“I’ll manage,” Stiles said. He’d thought about it for hours last night, and his conviction had only grown._ _

__“Alright,” Chris said with a sigh. “You should probably come meet him then.”_ _

__They left the bright corner office and wound through the labyrinth of hallways until they reached a wing that required Chris to swipe his clearance card and have a handler open the door for him._ _

__“Are you sure this is best, Mr. Argent?” The handler asked. “He’s not responding well to people coming near him.”_ _

__“It’s the best shot he has,” Chris said, passing by her._ _

__Stiles heard her mutter something about it being better to just put him out of his misery. Stiles looked at her sharply as he followed Chris down the hall._ _

__They passed a handful of rooms, all occupied with werewolves growling and flashing their eyes as Stiles’ group passed. Stiles was particularly unsettled by a female with flashing red eyes as she scraped her clawed toes across the metal of her bed frame. A pair of twins lunged at the doorway and Stiles had to force himself not to jump. A burly werewolf, who was mostly bald loomed menacingly in his doorway._ _

__Stiles was worried about how he’d react to similar behaviour from Derek, but Chris came to a stop outside a room with an empty doorway._ _

__“Derek, someone’s here to see you,” Chris called._ _

__A low rumble came from inside the room._ _

__“Derek, come meet Stiles,” Chris pressed on. This request was met with silence. They stood waiting for an awkward moment, but Derek didn’t appear._ _

__The handler wrapped on the doorway. “Derek, come here.”_ _

__That terse order was met with a snarl._ _

__Chris gave the handler a flat look, and Stiles shouldered past. The doorway didn’t appear to be blocked, but he knew from previous discussions with Allison the doors were lined with mountain ash. Without someone to break the barrier, wolves couldn’t get through._ _

__Stiles leaned forward to look into the room. It took him a second to find Derek, because he was huddled in the corner, crouched defensively._ _

__“Hey,” Stiles said aiming for friendly. “I’m Stiles. Your name's Derek, right?”_ _

__Derek didn’t answer, he just continued to scowl at Stiles._ _

__Stiles cleared his throat. “So, um, I thought I’d come by and see if we could get to know each other. Maybe hang out a bit or something. Is that cool with you?”_ _

__“You know he can’t understand you, right?” The handler said._ _

__Stiles watched Derek’s gaze shift to the woman and his expression change to one that clearly said, _you fucking idiot.__ _

__Stiles turned to her with a similar look. “Okay, first off, you don’t know that. Second of all, I talk. It’s what I do. I’ve talked to empty rooms before, and probably will again. If he understands, which I think he does, great. If not, I’ll continue to talk to him anyway. Regardless, it doesn’t really have anything to do with you, does it?”_ _

__The handler sniffed disdainfully and Chris pulled her a few steps away, speaking in a harsh whisper._ _

__“Anyway,” Stiles said, looking back to Derek. “I wanted to get to know you.” Stiles looked around the room and noticed yet another form of water lilies on the wall. “Do you like that picture?” He asked. Derek blinked at him, and Stiles launched into a monologue about impressionist art. He got so wrapped up in his train of thought that he started walking toward the painting without realizing._ _

__He didn’t notice how far he was into the room until Allison shouted, “Stiles!”_ _

__Stiles spun toward her, but Derek had already lunged forward, grabbing him by his loose over shirt and shoving him against the wall. He got right up in Stiles’ face, bared his teeth and growled._ _

__“Whoa. Okay, there, dude, look at you, totally in my bubble of personal space,” Stiles said. He could hear the handler squawking, calling for backup, and more people running toward the room. Allison was crying again, and Stiles thought, _man, pregnancy hormones must hit fast because that is so unlike her.__ _

__Chris was blocking the doorway, keeping the handlers from rushing in while watching Derek like a hawk._ _

__“He’s going to kill him,” the handler screamed at Chris._ _

__“No, he’s not going to do that, we're all just going to mellow the fuck out, okay?” Stiles said forcefully. He took a deep breath and channeled his father, thinking of how he stayed calm and collected in a crisis and forced people to listen with just the power in his voice. Stiles’ mouth twitched a bit when he considered that his dad probably wouldn’t have dropped an F-bomb while doing it._ _

__The handler’s shouting sputtered to a stop. Stiles didn’t dare look away from Derek to see what was happening now. He just met his gaze and refused to flinch._ _

__“If you’d wanted to stop talking about Monet, you could have just asked,” Stiles said. “I get it, really, not everyone is into art. I’m more of an alternative mediums guy myself. Comic books, graphic novels, video games, that sort of thing. Masterpieces in their own right, but something you become part of, not stare at on a wall.”_ _

__Derek tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. Stiles continued to stare back at him and ramble. Like he’d told the handler, talking was his thing. There was no way he’d overpower Derek, but he wouldn’t back down. Derek shifted forward, sniffing lightly at Stiles’ neck without touching skin to skin. Stiles powered through, describing the process of inking a comic book._ _

__As abruptly as he’d lunged at him, Derek backed away, returning to the corner and pressing his back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and scowling at Stiles._ _

__“Mr. Stilinski, come out here,” Chris said clearly._ _

__“Okay, in a minute,” Stiles said. He wasn’t going to rush for the door the moment Derek had let him go. That was no way to set the tone of their relationship. Stiles would leave when Stiles was ready. “Derek, my friend Allison said you need a new home. We were thinking you could come stay with me. Would that be okay?”_ _

__Derek’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He finally looked away from Stiles, his gaze sliding across the floor. Stiles wished he could have been given some sort of indication of an affirmative, but none was forthcoming. That only made Stiles more determined. This was an important decision, and Derek should have a say in it._ _

__“Well, I’m gonna go get the ball rolling on that. I’ll come and see you again soon, alright?” Stiles walked out and was immediately pulled into Allison’s arms._ _

__“You are so stupid sometimes,” Allison said._ _

__***_ _

__After Stiles finished filling out all the necessary paperwork with Chris, he went home and dived into the internet. He might have been certified, but he felt like there were far too many things he didn’t know about werewolves._ _

__Stiles was good at research. It was what he did best. In fact, his whole career revolved around his ability to find credible information and present it in an interesting way. So he didn’t expect researching werewolf care to be so damn _hard_._ _

__There were so many conflicting opinions, and sources that should be considered credible on both sides. Stiles knew how to look at a study and determine if it was credible, or a bunch of bull, but very little of what he could find had tangible evidence attached to it._ _

__One author who claimed to be a have a Ph.D. in behavioural science said werewolves were incapable of thinking at the same intellectual level as humans. Another author with equally good credentials proposed that they were on par if not _more_ intelligent._ _

__Beyond the scientific studies, there were the blogs. It seemed everybody and their cousin had a blog devoted to caring for a werewolf and a comment section that was aflame with people ripping each other apart over different opinions._ _

__Some blogs said that werewolves slept best alone, while others said they prefer a room with their owner or another wolf. Some bloggers insisted that werewolves needed all natural, organic diets and clothing, while others purchased specially designed werewolf “meals”. Stiles thought they looked like wet dog food. Sure they had all the nutrients they needed, but at what cost? Stiles sure as hell didn’t want to eat them, so he wasn’t about to force Derek to._ _

__The best resource Stiles found ended up being a blog written not by an owner, but by an actual werewolf. The author was named Erica and she’d been born human, and had been bitten in an unfortunate accident. She called it the best thing that had ever happened to her because it had cured her epilepsy. Her owner was her husband, B, and he let her do as she pleased._ _

__More than anything, what Stiles took away from her blog was that all werewolves were different. Just like humans, they had different preferences and personalities. He had to go with his gut instinct on what was right for Derek until Derek could tell him what he wanted._ _

__Stiles stayed up way too late looking through Erica’s posts, so he went to visit Derek in the afternoon instead of the morning. Chris was busy elsewhere, so one of the handlers led Stiles to Derek’s room. The handler kept eyeing him up and Stiles ignored them as he leaned against the doorway._ _

__“Hey, Derek,” Stiles said. Today, Derek was pacing his room, looking agitated. At Stiles’ arrival, he froze, then retreated to his corner. The room itself looked exactly the same, except that a black folder was lying on the bed._ _

__Stiles cleared his throat. “Did you have a good morning? I slept in kind of late, but that’s not so bad. I still got some work done, and I’ll do more when I get home.”_ _

__Stiles would have continued, but the door at the end of the hallway opened and the other wolves started howling. Derek seemed to perk up a bit, but he stayed in his corner._ _

__The commotion was caused by a woman who was stalking down the hall, Chris Argent following after her. She didn’t wait for him to catch up when he was stopped by a handler, she just continued towards Stiles. She stopped in front of him and glared. Stiles raised his hands in a placating gesture and stepped back. She turned and stood in front of Derek’s door, and put her hands on her hips with an irritated huff._ _

__“Laura, did you meet Stiles?” Chris asked when he caught up to her. Laura glared at Chris then looked pointedly at the door. Chris sighed and swiped his access card over the panel. The panel beeped and flashed its green light. Laura stepped through the doorway quickly, and after a few seconds, the light turned red and beeped again._ _

__Stiles realized then that Laura was a werewolf. She had to wait for Chris to break the mountain ash, and then she was shut in with Derek. Laura went straight to the bed, climbing on and sitting cross-legged facing the door._ _

__“Mr. Stilinski, this is Derek’s sister Laura. She was one of Kate’s as well, but she’s...adjusting better,” Chris explained._ _

__“I didn’t realize he had any family,” Stiles said honestly. It hadn’t occurred to him that Derek might have a sister, or even a mother and father. Now that he thought about it, it was perfectly logical. Plenty of owners kept siblings or even whole families of werewolves. Sometimes for generations._ _

__“Laura’s an alpha, she seems to help him somewhat,” Chris said. They watched as Derek cautiously left his corner and sat next to Laura, pressed against her side. She tilted her head so he could press into her neck and sniff deeply._ _

__Laura leaned forward and grabbed the folder flipping it open._ _

__“Careful, Laura,” Chris cautioned. Laura raised an eyebrow, rolled her eyes, and refocused._ _

__“Stiles Stilinski,” she said. She twitched her nose, then turned toward Derek. “Stiles,” She repeated._ _

__Derek gave a tiny nod, and Laura read on. She listed all the information Chris had gathered the day before, occasionally turning to Derek and repeating something, then waiting for him to give some kind of reaction. Stiles leaned against the doorway watching them. Derek never said anything to Laura in response, but she read the tilt of his head or jerk of his eyebrows as easily as she did the words in the folder. Laura offered no opinion on the contents, but she did occasionally shoot a glare at Stiles or Chris._ _

__“Thank you for taking him,” Chris said. “I can’t give him what he needs, but I didn’t want to see him put down.”_ _

__Stiles nodded. “What will happen to Laura?”_ _

__“I’ve taken her on for now.” Chris shrugged. “She’s smart. Strong. We’ll see how she does.”_ _

__Stiles frowned. “If they’re siblings, that means they’re the same breed night?” Chris nodded, so Stiles continued, “Doesn’t that mean she has the same...needs?”_ _

__“In part,” Chris agreed. “Laura has heats, but they’re different. She’s trained for it, but she doesn’t _need_ it. Laura’s classified as an alpha, so out of their breed, she’s the most likely to control it. Derek’s an omega. He’s completely helpless to stop it.”_ _

__Stiles turned back to the werewolves to find them both staring at him. Laura snapped the folder closed and turned to face Derek with her whole body. She squeezed his wrist and said fiercely, “Never again.”_ _

__Derek just nodded, putting his hand over hers._ _

__As Stiles walked back out of the complex with Chris he couldn’t help thinking how _different_ Isaac was from Derek and Laura. “Why don’t they…” He started to ask then hesitated. “Neither of them really talked to us.”_ _

__Chris sighed. “None of the werewolves in Kate’s care have given us much detail about what happened to them. But it’s painfully clear that they think speaking will garnish a punishment. Laura has been testing that, but Derek hasn’t dared yet. I can tell that Laura is clever, but out of practice in terms of normal interactions. She and her brother understand each other fine, but none of us know what the hell is going through their heads.”_ _

__***_ _

__Stiles came again the next day. He’d been told Laura visited every day at the same time. It was supposed to be her “recreational free time.” Most wolves were taken outside on walks or to play some sport. Chris walked her alright. Straight up to Derek._ _

__So Stiles got there a few minutes earlier so he’d have time to talk to Derek alone and get to see him interact with his sister. Today, Derek was sitting on his bed. He remained unnaturally still, but he didn’t move to the corner, so Stiles considered it progress. He took note of the black duffle bag on the floor at Derek’s feet and chattered away until Laura came down the hallway, Chris hot at her heels._ _

__Laura glared at Stiles on her way by, then with a disdainful sniff ignored him. After Laura had sat down next to Derek, Chris smiled at Stiles. “We had a visit from the government office today.”_ _

__“Oh?” Stiles asked._ _

__“Not only have they agreed not to euthanize Derek, but you’ve been approved as his owner. They want you to bring him to see a werewolf behaviour specialist, but there’s one in your area that I can refer you to,” Chris said._ _

__“That’s great,” Stiles said. He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been about getting approved until the knot of nerves loosened in his chest. “When can I bring him home?”_ _

__“Today if you’re ready,” Chris said. He eyed Derek’s room. “I told him to start packing his things, but it doesn’t look like he’s made much headway.”_ _

__“I’ll help,” Laura announced. She left the bed and opened the top drawer of Derek’s dresser. She pulled out a shirt, sniffed it, then tossed it into the small garbage can next to the desk. She repeated the process with five more shirts. Only one of them made it to the duffle bag._ _

__“Laura.” Chris’ tone was reproachful and his face disapproving, but he also looked a bit confused._ _

__Laura hesitated for a brief moment, then pursed her lips at him in her own disapproving stare. “I’m helping.” She followed this by opening the next drawer and sending a slew of pants sailing toward the now overflowing trash can._ _

__“Laura stop,” Chris said firmly. “You can’t get rid of all Derek’s clothes.”_ _

__Laura didn’t even bother looking at him this time, just continued systematically sorting through the drawers. “Wrong scent.”_ _

__Chris sighed. “We can wash them for him. The scent will fade and be replaced by Stiles’ in time.” Laura shot him another glare and kept going. “Laura, you can’t expect Stiles to shell out the money for brand new everything when these are still perfectly good just because you don’t think they smell nice.”_ _

__Laura stopped and flashed red eyes at Chris. The next thing she pulled from the drawers looked like a bed sheet, and instead of just tossing it, she pushed out her claws and started ripping it to shreds. Derek watched silently as the strips of fabric fluttered toward the growing pile._ _

__“Laura, stop!” Chris shouted at her. He pulled out his access card then hesitated. Right now they were contained within the room. If Laura got out of the room when she was this agitated, it could end badly for all of them._ _

__“You promised!” Laura shouted back._ _

__Chris threw up his hands in exasperation. “What the hell do you mean?”_ _

__Laura snarled, advancing toward the door. “You promised. No more of her.”_ _

__Chris shook his head, hands clenching into fists. “She won’t come back.”_ _

__“Not good enough.” Laura’s voice vibrated with a growl._ _

__Stiles cleared his throat. “If that’s what it takes to make Derek comfortable, I can buy him new T-shirts.” He put a hand on Chris’ shoulder. “I knew this would cost me at least something when I signed up for it, I can get him new clothes.” He met Laura’s red glare straight on. “I have extra bedding at home. Do you think that will work for now? That way he can choose what he wants when he’s ready.”_ _

__Laura stared at him suspiciously. Everyone stood locked into a tense tableau until Derek gave a low whine. Laura breathed in sharply, and the colour bled from her eyes. Stiles hadn’t noticed that Derek had curled in on himself during the fight, and was sitting with hand over his ears, unnaturally still._ _

__Laura latched onto him, holding him as she rubbed his arm and murmured, “Never again. She won’t hurt you ever again.”_ _

__Chris sighed. “You’re extra bedding should be fine. It will help him adjust to your scent anyway. We can give you some money to pay for new clothes._ _

__“Thank you, but no,” Stiles said. “The only one who should be giving me money is his old owner, for all the therapy he’s going to need. He’s my responsibility now, I’ll take care of the rest.”_ _

__Chris nodded tersely. After Derek had calmed down, Laura finished sorting the clothes and folded the meager amount she’d agreed to keep and tucked them into the duffle._ _

__“Okay?” Laura asked Derek and he nodded. She pulled him to his feet and embraced him. “You’ll be okay.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

Derek clutched the duffle bag to his chest for the whole trip home. Stiles was a bit concerned that the loudness of the jeep would hurt Derek’s ears, but he didn’t seem any tenser than he’d been inside the Argent’s facility.

It was early enough in the afternoon that they didn’t hit traffic, so they made it home by four. Stiles cut the engine, and almost went into the house, then realized that Derek wasn’t following him. He rounded the Jeep and opened the passenger door. “This is home,” he said, feeling awkward.

Derek unclipped his seatbelt and trailed after Stiles into the house. Stiles kicked off his shoes at the door, and Derek copied him. “Why don’t I show you around?” Stiles asked.

He gave Derek a full tour, feeling grateful that he’d taken the time the night before to clean and get everything ready for Derek’s arrival. He wanted to make a good impression. He ended the tour in the spare bedroom he’d chosen for Derek. “This is yours now,” Stiles said as Derek wandered inside. “Just yours. You can go in any other parts of the house, but I’ll never come in here unless you ask me to, or it's an emergency, okay?”

Derek turned back to him, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Stiles shrugged. “I guess I don’t expect you to believe me, but I mean it. It’s your room, and you can do what you want with it. I’ll let you get settled in.” He knocked on the doorframe and jogged down the stairs. Once there he was kind of at a loss for what to do next. So, he texted his dad.

_Just bought Derek home._

The response came swiftly. _You’ll do great, kid._

Stiles smiled. He wasn’t sure if he was the best choice for Derek, but he was all there was. So, he was going to try his hardest to do what he could. He decided an early dinner might be a good place to start.

***

“Derek, dinner’s ready,” Stiles called up the stairs. Then he felt stupid because Derek could probably hear him fine without him raising his voice. Did werewolf hearing reach that far? He’d probably have to do more research. Or maybe ask Isaac.

Stiles went back into the kitchen and brought their plates over to the table. He sat down, and then hesitated fork in hand. Should he wait for Derek or start without him? He decided to wait, then after a few awkward minutes watching the clock, he changed his mind and started on his potatoes.

He almost missed the creak of the stairs. When Stiles turned around, Derek froze, like if he was still enough Stiles would miss him. “Hey there,” Stiles said casually. Derek didn’t move so Stiles refocused on his plate, pushing the food around. “I made chicken and potatoes. I don’t know if you like that. It’s okay if you don’t, the leftovers save pretty well. I was going to put sour cream in the potatoes, but then I thought you might not like sour cream so I just put it on the table so you can add it yourself. Or not.” He could hear Derek moving down the stairs so he kept going. “Scott likes ketchup on his chicken, which is gross if you ask me, but if you like that I could grab it from the fridge. Or mustard. That would be too weird I guess. I’ve never tried it. I’m more of a BBQ sauce guy myself.”

Derek had stopped again but wasn’t taking a chair at the table. Stiles hazarded a glance behind him, and Derek wasn’t behind him anymore. “Oh,” Stiles said. He looked back to the kitchen, but Derek had disappeared. “Shit,” Stiles said, standing up. What the hell would people think if he lost Derek on the first day?

It only took one step away from the table to find him. “Jesus, hey, hello, hi,” Stiles stuttered clutching his chest. Derek was kneeling on the floor beside the kitchen island, staring up at Stiles. They eyed each other awkwardly for a minute. “So, do you wanna come eat?” Stiles asked.

Derek narrowed his eyes slightly, then nodded.

“Cool, great, this is your food,” Stiles said, gesturing to the plate.

Derek’s nostrils flared but he didn’t get up and come to the table.

“Right,” Stiles said, floundering. “So, it’s ready and everything. You just have to come over here and dig in.” If anything Derek moved farther away from the table. Stiles looked down at the plate, trying to figure out if he’d made some critical error with the food that made it repulsive to werewolves. “Do you not like potatoes?”

Derek tilted his head and gave a small shrug.

“Okay, do you like chicken?” Stiles asked. He’d thought it was a safe bet. Some people fed their werewolves exclusively meat based diets.

Derek gave a small nod and eyed the table longingly.

“I’m sorry, Derek, I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do,” Stiles said. “Aren’t you hungry? It’s dinner time.”

When Stiles said dinner time, Derek sat down, legs crossed loosely, and sitting up straight before looking at Stiles expectantly.

It started as a small niggle in the back of Stiles’ mind, then grew accompanied by a wave of overwhelming dread. Some people didn’t let their werewolves eat at the table with them. They thought it encouraged begging, so they fed them, usually those specially designed meals of ground-up sludge, on the floor. In a bowl. Like a dog.

“Derek, you don’t have to sit on the floor,” Stiles said. Derek frowned at him. “You can come eat here with me.” Derek eyed the table and shook his head, pushing back against the counter with a thump. Stiles pushed his fingers through his hair. “I’m not trying to trick you or anything. I don’t know about your last owner, but I want to spend time with you. I’d like your company. The table is for both of us.”

Stiles hated the image that Derek’s stubbornness was painting. Had he been punished for getting too close the table while Kate was eating? “Please Derek? You’re breaking my heart.”

Derek didn’t budge. The food was getting cold, and Stiles didn’t even know if Derek understood him yet. “Okay,” Stiles said, nodding to himself. “If you don’t want to eat up here with me, I’ll eat down there with you.” He took a moment to cut up the chicken on both of their plates, then carried them over and settled on the floor beside Derek. “Here,” he thrust the plate into Derek’s hands. 

Derek looked down at it and swallowed, then looked back at Stiles.

“Here’s your fork,” Stiles said, holding it out. Derek took the utensil and held it awkwardly. Stiles smiled, hoped it was reassuring, and resumed eating his own food and chattering away.

It took a few minutes, but eventually, Derek started eating. Stiles sat with him until they were both finished, then grabbed their glasses from the table and brought Derek some juice.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Stiles told him, swirling the liquid in his glass. “I don’t know what’s going to help you and I don’t know what’s best for taking care of you. But I can’t just treat you like a dog. I can’t.”

Derek leaned toward him and stopped just short of touching Stiles. 

“We’ll figure it out, okay? We have time.” Stiles laid his hand palm up between them. Derek moved slowly, reaching out and brushing his fingertips over Stiles’ hand, so light it almost tickled.

Then he shot up and bolted out of the kitchen.

“Good talk.” Stiles groaned as he pulled himself to his feet.

***

After cleaning up the kitchen, Stiles retreated to his office to try and put his thoughts in order.

He truly wanted to help Derek, but he had no idea where to start. Was it fair to expect Derek to come eat with him when Derek wasn’t even talking right now? And why wasn’t Derek talking?

Some people claimed that werewolves only mimicked speech, but couldn’t understand the concepts behind it the way humans did. Stiles thought that was a load of bullshit. He’d known Isaac for too long to think that they weren’t fully capable of forming their own ideas and opinions. His research the night before had yielded several linguistic studies that supported that, and after reading Erica’s blog his opinion had solidified. 

Derek’s lack of speech must be connected to his trauma. So was it something Kate had insisted on, just like making him eat off the floor? Now that he thought about it, all of Laura’s sentences were short and simple. Years of Kate insisting on their silence must have had a lasting impact.

So how could Stiles reverse the behaviour? What could he do to convince Derek that he would never punish him the way Kate had and that he wanted them to be equals?

Stiles spent hours in his office, doing more research and thinking of ways to make Derek comfortable and secure in the knowledge that Stiles wouldn’t hurt him. 

It was getting late when he went upstairs to bed. While he was brushing his teeth, he realized he should probably check on Derek and make sure he was settled for the night. He rummaged around for a spare toothbrush and left it on the bathroom counter. He padded down the hall and stopped just outside Derek’s door.

Derek was sitting up on the bed staring at him. What a surprise.

“Hey,” Stiles said, leaning against the door frame. “I’m heading to bed. I left a toothbrush for you, and you can use my toothpaste. Did Laura pack your pajamas or something?”

Derek clenched his hands in his sheets.

“Okay, well, if you need anything, you know where my room is,” Stiles said. “Goodnight.”

Stiles changed into some soft sleep pants and an old T-shirt then got into bed. He listened for the sound of Derek going down the hall to the bathroom, but he fell asleep before it came.

***

Stiles mumbled curses at his alarm clock as he fumbled to shut it up. He didn’t actually have anywhere he needed to be, but he always set it so he didn’t waste the day away sleeping.

He grabbed his phone and scrolled through Facebook with one eye open for awhile, waiting for his brain to wake up. When it finally did, he remembered he wasn’t alone in the house. He got out of bed quickly and went over to Derek’s room.

Derek was sitting in the exact same position he had been last night. He was wearing the same clothes, and the bed looked mostly unruffled except for the immediate area surrounding Derek.

“Good morning,” Stiles said. “How did you sleep?” Derek didn’t answer, as usual. “Okay, well, I’m going to shower and then we’ll have breakfast, okay?”

The first thing Stiles noticed when he entered the bathroom was the toothbrush. It was still in its packaging, right where he’d left it the night before.

As far as Stiles could tell Derek hadn’t moved all night.

***

Breakfast went much the same as dinner had. Stiles tried to convince Derek to come sit at the table, Derek stubbornly refused, and ended up sitting on the floor with him until Derek disappeared back upstairs.

After puttering around the kitchen, Stiles decided to do laundry. Stiles had a slightly erratic approach to doing chores, so laundry meant going up and down between his bedroom and the laundry room several times while he got everything he wanted, including stripping his bed and changing the sheets. 

A quick glance showed Derek watching him, eyes narrowed and suspicious every time Stiles passed. Suspicious and very, very tired.

By the time Stiles was finished, Derek had passed out sideways on his bed. Grateful that Derek was getting some rest, Stiles went down to his office to get some work done as quietly as possible.

He got a few hours of solid research for his book down before he heard Derek’s slow progression down the stairs. It was the first time Derek had come down without Stiles calling him, so Stiles fought down the urge to race out of his office and greet him.

Derek peeked into the office and Stiles smiled. “Hey. Feeling better?” Derek shrugged and stepped a little further into the room. “I was thinking we could go out for lunch. Nothing special just burgers or something.”

Derek nodded and left the room. Stiles followed him out quickly and found Derek putting his shoes on at the front door.

“Cool, now is good, I was getting hungry too.” Stiles pulled on his own sneakers and grabbed his key off the hook.

Stiles didn’t want to push Derek into a situation he wasn’t ready for and risk someone getting hurt. So he went through the drive-thru of a fast food place. After placing his own order he hummed and hawed at the menu, trying to decide what to get Derek. He settled on a classic burger, figuring they could always switch if Derek didn’t like it.

Instead of taking the food back home, Stiles drove up to the Beacon Hills lookout. It was a popular place for teenagers to go make out, but in the middle of the day like this, it was empty. Stiles had decided last night to try eating in various locations. Maybe if they eat together enough, Derek wouldn’t be so against the table.

Derek seemed happy with his food. He’d gotten agitated at one point when he’d dripped ketchup on the seat, but Stiles had just handed him a napkin and told him about the time he’d spilled a milkshake all over his dad’s cruiser. Derek had calmed down and Stiles considered the meal a success.


	3. Chapter 3

***

It started with a spoon.

Specifically a wooden spoon.

Stiles was making his mother’s borscht recipe for dinner and using his favourite wooden spoon. At some point, Derek had wandered downstairs and was watching Stiles closely as he chopped, simmered, and stirred. He looked like he was waiting for something as he edged closer and closer into the kitchen.

Stiles figured he could wait it out. As long as Derek didn’t try to hurt Stiles or himself, they’d be fine. He reached for his spoon and came up empty. He turned around and Derek was quickly leaving the kitchen.

Stiles shrugged, hoping he’d come back later, and started looking for the spoon, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. He’d been sure he left it on the counter, right next to his recipe binder but now it was gone. He got out another spoon because he really did have to stir, but he was irritated because that one had been his favourite and now he’d have to wash both of them.

“Wait,” Stiles said. He went upstairs quickly and sure enough, Derek was in the far corner of his room, seemingly waiting for Stiles, and holding the spoon.

“Derek, I was using that,” Stiles said. “Bring it here.”

Derek didn’t budge, just narrowed his eyes and tilted his chin defiantly.

“I’m not coming in there to get it,” Stiles said, crossing his arms.

Derek sat down on the bed with a thump and spun the spoon idly. They entered a stare off, but Stiles lost because he’d left the stove on.

“Fine, but don’t wreck it, it’s my favourite,” Stiles said. “And bring it downstairs when dinner’s ready.”

Derek did not bring the spoon down. In fact, over the course of the evening, he also took a fork, the tv remote, Stiles’ watch (he’d taken it off for two seconds!), a dish towel, three movies, and the blanket Stiles kept on the couch.

“Why are you doing this?” Stiles said, bracing himself in the doorway. Derek’s bounty was scattered across the room, and Derek was still looking at him like he was waiting for something. “At least give me the remote back,” Stiles said.

Derek picked it up and came forward, and Stiles had a brief moment of elation, thinking Derek was actually going to bring it to him. Derek stopped short of the doorway and put the remote on the ground and went back to his bed.

Stiles stared down at the controller. He could totally reach it from here. All he’d have to do was lean forward a bit and he could grab it. But that would technically put him in Derek’s room, and he’d promised he’d never go in there.

“Oh,” Stiles said. Now he knew what Derek was waiting for. He was testing Stiles, to see what it would take to break his word. “No way, dude. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m not going into your room unless it’s an emergency.” He turned on his heel and walked away. Before heading to bed, he called, “Brush your teeth and get some sleep!”

When he got up in the morning, the remote was outside Derek’s door, but a towel, both toothbrushes, and three bars of soap had been taken.

***

As far as Stiles could tell, Derek hadn’t slept again. After breakfast, (in the backyard today,) Stiles managed to convince him to go take a shower and change clothes while he went into his office to research werewolf sleeping habits. Apparently, while they could go without sleep for longer than humans, it was inadvisable because it may affect their control. 

An hour into his research Derek started hovering by the doorway. Stiles smiled at him then went back to his screen. The next time he looked up he startled. Derek was sitting in the armchair in the corner of Stiles’ office. He almost made a joke about getting Derek a bell so he could hear him moving, but then he remembered how often Derek actually had been treated like a dog and the joke didn’t seem funny anymore.

He decided to put his current personal research aside and actually get to work. While complying information, he talked. Sort of to Derek, but mostly to himself, vocalizing his stream of consciousness.

“You know how many times England has attacked France? A lot. Like an outrageous amount. It’s like, hey there’s nothing to keep the peasants busy so let's attack France so they don’t rebel. And then when they get bored of that, they marry them instead, just to switch things up. Then it’s back to attacking. For the glory of England,” Stiles said a terrible British accent.

“All hail the King.”

Stiles snapped his head over to Derek. That was the first thing he’d said in front of Stiles. His voice was groggy from disuse and soft with sleep. He was curled up in the chair eyes drooping and he blinked at Stiles tiredly.

“Exactly,” Stiles said. “Half the country says, ‘Long live this guy,’ while the rest says, ‘He sucks, we want this dude instead.’” He went on a tangent about Mary, Queen of Scots, while Derek seemed to drift in and out of sleep nearby.

***

Scott, Allison, and the Sheriff had been texting Stiles for updates and to offer support regularly since he’d brought Derek home, but they hadn’t visited yet because they were waiting for them to get settled. 

Stiles was just thinking of packing it in for the day and starting dinner when his dad messaged him, _Up for some company?_

“What do you Derek, you ready to meet my dad?” Stiles asked. Derek raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t run screaming from the room, so Stiles took that as a yes. _That would be great._ Stiles thought his dad would be the perfect person to meet Derek first. He came over frequently, so Derek would have to get used to him at some point, and his dad was great at putting people at ease. He might have some insight on how to deal with Derek’s behavioural quirks.

_Pizza?_ His dad shot back.

_Always._ “Hey, Derek, what do you like on your pizza?” Stiles asked. Derek gave him a sideways look, and Stiles sheepishly realized Derek may never of had pizza, and if he did it might have been many, many years ago. “We’ll just get the usual then.”

An hour later, Derek was hovering at the top of the stairs while Stiles hugged his dad and took the pizzas from him. “How are things going?” the Sheriff asked.

“Okay for the most part.” Stiles settled into his usual spot on the couch while his dad took the armchair. “He said something today, so that’s good.”

The Sheriff nodded easily and took a slice of pizza. “You want to talk about it or go straight to the movie?”

“Movie,” Stiles said. The Stilinski men had a time honoured tradition of pizza and movies to catch up, and Stiles could feel himself relaxing into the familiar routine. “I’d offer to show you the new Avengers movie, but _someone_ won’t bring it out of his room.” Stiles looked over his shoulder pointedly. Derek smirked back at him from where he was sitting on the stairs. Stiles should probably be more irritated, but it was kind of a relief to see a little personality shine through instead the cowed obedience that Derek had shown when he first got here. If Derek was willing to sass him, it probably meant he wasn’t so worried about Stiles hurting him.

“And is that _someone_ going to be joining us?” the Sheriff asked.

“I hope so,” Stiles said. “Hey Derek, want to watch a movie?” He stayed silent for a moment, but Derek didn’t take the opportunity to respond. “We’re eating in here today, so at least come and have some pizza.”

Stiles nearly dropped his pizza when Derek suddenly dropped onto the couch. Derek turned his suspicious glare on the Sheriff when he started laughing his ass off.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Stiles said. “Just for that, no more meat lover’s for you. Derek and I are gonna eat it all.”

“Oh, come on now.” The Sheriff tugged the box a little closer to him and Stiles snapped it shut.

“Nope, you made your bed.” Stiles passed Derek a slice. Derek held it a little awkwardly, but after watching Stiles eat for a bit he managed fine. Stiles put on the first Iron Man movie because he was feeling nostalgic. He and his dad had seen it dozens of times, and could probably quote most of it, but Derek didn’t look like he recognized it at all. He was enraptured immediately. Towards the end, he even started growling at the villain.

When the credits rolled, the Sheriff levered himself up with a groan. “Well, I should get going. I’ll come by to see you again soon, though.”

“That would be good.” Stiles got up and hugged him tightly. They chatted a bit longer while the Sheriff put on his shoes.

“It was nice to meet you, Derek,” the Sheriff said, hand on the door.

“Bye,” Derek said. Then he took off upstairs.

Stiles grinned at his dad. “Wow, clearly he adores you.”

The Sheriff chuckled and gave Stiles another hug. “You’re not in this alone, okay? You have lots of people in your life who want to help him.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Stiles said. He hadn’t interacted with anyone but Derek and the drive-thru cashier in days, and it was easy to forget that he had people to lean on. “Baby steps, right? We’ll get there.”

After the Sheriff left, Stiles went upstairs and got ready for bed. It took him a little while because Derek still hadn’t returned his toothbrush, and at some point absconded with the toothpaste too, and he had to find replacements.

He stopped outside Derek’s door as usual. “Hey, try and get some sleep tonight, okay?”

Derek tilted his head for a moment, then nodded, and got up to grab some sleep pants. Stiles left him to get ready.

Stiles used to surf the internet on his phone before going to sleep, but after too many times staying up until five in the morning because he’d gotten lost in the endless loop of information, he’d curtailed the habit. He usually read instead, something light to help calm himself and get his brain to just down. This week’s book was reaching its thrilling conclusion, so he stayed up later than he had been the last few nights.

Which was probably why when he finally turned out his light, he heard the whines from down the hall.

The first one he heard was so soft for a second he wasn’t sure he’d actually heard it at all. But they got louder, and closer together, and Stiles started to panic.

So he turned to the internet.

Like all the information on werewolves he’d gotten so far, there were vastly different opinions. Many sources suggest just letting them “cry it out.” In time the werewolf would figure out how to calm itself down. The same articles said never, ever, to let a werewolf into your bed because they would get spoiled and never sleep alone again.

At this point, Derek’s whines were almost howls, and Stiles didn’t understand how he’d never heard them before.

A general search wasn’t helping him, so he decided to bring up Erica’s blog. It was the one that resonated most with him, so he looked through the tags for anything regarding sleep or whining, but he was too frantic to focus. At the bottom of the blog, there was a contact button, so asking questions and suggesting topics. In an act of desperation, he hit it and let his thumbs fly over the screen.

_I just became the owner of a werewolf who was severely abused. He’s barely slept in the three days I’ve had him, and now he’s whining in his room. I don’t know what I’m doing. Please help._

He went back to scrolling through her blog while gnawing at his lip, sitting perched on the edge of his bed, wracked with indecision. He didn’t expect Erica to get back to him, it was past midnight, but he sagged with relief when his email pinged.

_Sorry to hear about your friend. I’ll try to do a more in-depth post soon, but for now, I think you should see if he wants to come sleep with you._

_Before I was turned I slept alone all the time, but after the bite it made me feel really vulnerable and lonely. Pack instinct or something. A lot of werewolves sleep with other weres or their owners. It might help him calm down to know you’re there and keeping him safe. Even if he doesn’t want you near him (I don’t know how extensive his abuse was or the nature of it), just knowing you’re around could help.  
Follow your instincts._

_Good luck and let me know how it goes,  
EricaWerica_

A knot loosened in Stiles’ stomach, and he sprang off the bed. He felt like all he’d needed was permission, and now that he had it, he could do what his gut said.

Derek’s door was open, and Stiles stopped short before entering. This wasn’t an emergency, and he’d made a promise. “Derek?”

The dark room blazed with blue as Derek sat up and looked at him.

“Derek, are you okay?” Stiles asked. Derek let out a growl but it morphed and ended as a whine. “I just...wanted you to know I’m here, alright? If you need anything or want anything I...I’m here.”

Silence wrapped around the darkness and the sound of Stiles’ breathing shot through like stars.

“You could--” Stiles broke off and swallowed. “You can come sleep in my room if you want. I won’t mind. Or you can stay in here, or go downstairs or...Whatever you want. I just want you to be comfortable.” Derek closed his eyes and the bright blue glow cut out, leaving only the pale light of the streetlamps and waning moon. “I’m going to go back to my room now. If you need me, just call or come get me, okay?”

Stiles gave the doorframe one last pat and trudged back up the hallway. He didn’t feel like he’d accomplished anything besides inflicting his presence on Derek in the middle of the night.

He got back under his covers and willed himself to go to sleep. He refused to look at the clock, so he wasn’t sure how long it was before his door creaked open farther and Derek crept in and loomed at the side of the bed.

“Hey, buddy,” Stiles said quietly. The bed dipped as Derek climbed on to it. Once settled, he remained unnaturally still for a moment that felt like a year. Then he brushed his fingertips along Stiles’ back and quickly withdrew them.

Stiles rolled over to face Derek. The blue glow made it impossible to see his face, so Stiles closed his eyes and put his hand palm up between them.

“When I was a kid and I couldn’t sleep, my mom used to tell me about stars. She knew all the stories for all the constellations.” Stiles started with Gemini, spinning the tale of Casper and Pollack. Halfway through, Derek’s hand slid into his. Stiles’ sentences turned to mumbles not long after, and he drifted off while Derek’s thumb ran circles over his wrist.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles woke up with a sigh and a moan at the pleasure of having another person’s body pressed against his. He nearly fell off the bed when the body abruptly disappeared and barely looked up in time to see Derek high tailing it out of the room.

“Shit,” Stiles muttered. He didn’t mean to react like that. He’d still been mostly asleep, and Derek was warm and firm yet pliant. He really hoped that his awkward morning wood wouldn’t deter Derek from coming to sleep with him again. Stiles wouldn’t mind if Derek chose to sleep by himself, he just wanted him to feel safe enough to sleep.

For breakfast, Stiles put together some egg sandwiches, and sat on his washing machine, before calling Derek down.

When Derek found him in the laundry room he rolled his eyes and hopped up onto the dryer before accepting his sandwich.

Stiles knocked his bare foot against Derek’s and smiled around his food.

***

They spent their Tuesday much like they had their Monday, ensconced in Stiles’ office, with Stiles thinking out loud while Derek lounged on a chair in the corner. Mid-morning, Stiles sent a message to Erica apologizing for freaking out at her and thanking her for her help. They ate lunch in the office, and got take out from Stiles’ favourite diner to eat in the car for dinner.

Stiles wasn’t sure how the night would go, and he made a point of staying up as late as he had the night before. He didn’t hear anything from Derek’s room, so he let himself settle into sleep. He’d nearly drifted off when Derek crept in and laid down beside him. Stiles was too comfortable to turn over, so he reached a hand back and wiggled his fingers. Derek let out a small huff and twined their hands together, resting them on Stiles’ waist.

Wednesday morning, Stiles got a text from Scott. It was hard for him to believe that only a week ago, he hadn’t even known Derek existed. As much as he wanted to see Scott and Allison, they were all worried that Derek would react negatively to the similarities between Allison’s scent and Kate’s. So far, Derek had been slowly relaxing around Stiles, and he didn’t want to reverse the progress he’d made by stressing him out.

Discussing scents made Stiles think of Laura. Derek hadn’t said anything about her, but while he’d been at the Argent’s headquarters, she’d visited him every day. She was his sister after all, and if Stiles had been in Derek’s position, he’d miss her terribly.

He’d filed Derek’s official papers in his desk drawer when they’d gotten home. He pulled them out now and found the phone number for the Argent’s administration desk. After waiting on hold with various people for twenty minutes and repeating his request multiple times, he finally got put through to Chris Argent.

“Mr. Stilinski. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, actually, things are going pretty well,” Stiles said, looking over to where Derek was sprawled in his chair, extending and retracting his claws one by one. “I wanted to talk to you about Laura.” Derek sat up quickly.

“What about her?” Chris asked curtly.

“Well, Derek’s been here for a few days now, so they probably miss each other. I was hoping maybe he could talk to her,” Stiles explained. He wondered if maybe he should have done this somewhere that Derek couldn’t hear him. It would suck if he’d gotten Derek excited then Chris said no.

“Derek is talking now?” Chris asked incredulously.

“Well, kind of. A little bit,” Stiles hedged. He’d gotten a few more words out of Derek, but not a lot. “But Laura talks, right? She can start and we’ll see how it goes.”

Chris’ sigh crackled over the receiver. “I’ll see what I can do.” Stiles was promptly put on hold again, for longer than all the other times combined.

When the call was finally picked up again, Laura’s breathless voice said, “Derek?”

“Hold on,” Stiles said quickly. Derek was vibrating with excitement. Stiles quickly switched to speakerphone and went to sit on the floor next to Derek. “Okay.”

“Derek?” Laura asked again.

Derek closed his eyes and swallowed. “Hey.”

They could hear Laura’s sharp inhale and a long pause, and then words started gushing forth. She asked a lot of questions, most went unanswered, but Derek managed a good amount of “Yeah”s and “No”s considering how little he’d talked since Stiles had met him. Laura’s speech had already improved since Stiles had last seen her, but there were still some grammatical abnormalities or times when she couldn’t find quite the right word. Stiles supplied them where he could, as did Chris on the other end, but for the most part, she just plowed through until Derek hummed in agreement.

After half an hour Chris said quietly, “Laura we have to go now.”

“We’ll call again soon,” Stiles said, as Derek’s face fell.

“Miss you,” Laura said.

“You too,” Derek whispered.

Chris gave Stiles the number to his direct line, and bid them goodbye.

As soon as Stiles hung up, Derek slid to the ground behind him and pressed against Stiles’ side, face against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Stiles said, throat tight.

***

The more Derek relaxed, the more Stiles realized that he was kind of a brat. It was really tempting to let him get away with anything because for one, some of the stuff he did was hella amusing, and for another, he’d been through a lot. The more Stiles learned about werewolves, the more he thought they really shouldn’t be owned at all. They should be seen as equals to humans, not dogs and cattle. It weighed on him that Derek was part of such an oppressed group on top of the abuse he’d suffered at Kate’s hands.

But he couldn’t let Derek get away with everything.

So even though he wanted to let Derek eat an entire cake with very little help from Stiles, he’d stopped him before he made himself sick. Derek had pouted, but the sky didn’t fall.

They butted heads over little things, but overall they smoothed things over. The maddest Derek had gotten was when Stiles had accidentally tipped over a bag of flour while making cookies, and Derek had gotten covered in it. He’d snarled but he looked so ridiculous all Stiles could do was laugh.

Scott and Allison called or texted a lot to offer their support or advice, but the person Stiles found really helpful was Erica. She hadn’t let him slip back into being an avid, if somewhat embarrassed, reader after he’d reached out to her. She’d written him back, asking for more details, provided helpful advice from her own experience as well as research done by legitimate professionals that “didn’t have their heads up their asses,” as she liked to say. It helped a lot to remind Stiles that Derek wasn’t some foreign _thing_. He was a person, with independent thoughts and feelings.

They made a successful trip to Wal-Mart without anyone getting mauled, Derek was saying more with every day, and the Sheriff had visited three more times without any incidents. So, when Wednesday rolled around again, Stiles decided they could try having Scott over.

They decided that Allison and Isaac should stay home so Derek wouldn’t be overwhelmed. Derek was only a beta, but they didn’t know how territorial he would be with Isaac, and they didn’t want to risk hurting a pregnant Allison if things took a turn for the worse. 

The Sheriff had the evening off, so he agreed to come over as well. Stiles hoped having another familiar face would help Derek acclimatize to the new guest. Chinese food had been ordered, and Stiles was already in the living room with his Dad when Scott’s car pulled into the driveway.

Derek went to lurk at the top of the stairs while Stiles opened the door.

“Hey,” Scott said, enveloping him in a bearhug. “I missed you, dude. Texting just isn’t enough.”

“No question about that,” Stiles replied. This was probably the longest he’d gone without seeing Scott in years. “Come on in and sit down, food’s on its way.”

Scott shucked off his shoes and followed them into the livingroom.

“Derek, do you want to come meet, Scott?” Stiles called. The growl in response surprised him. “Okay, maybe later then.”

Derek stayed upstairs while the rest of them caught up. He finally came down when the food arrived, but it was very clear that he did _not_ like Scott. Anytime Scott tried to say something to him, or get too close he snarled. He also got agitated if Scott got too close to Stiles.

Between the Sheriff’s calm presence and Stiles frequent discussions with him, they managed to get through the evening without a full blown incident, but by 10 o’clock, Stiles was exhausted.

“I should probably head home soon,” Scott said awkwardly.

Derek made his signature quick retreat from the room, and Stiles sighed. They didn’t usually pack things in so early. “Sorry, man. I’m sure he’ll get used to you in time.”

“It’s okay,” Scott said. “Isaac was a little shy at first too, but now I’m nearly as close to him as I am to Allison.” Scott’s tan skin suddenly heated with a blush. “Not that it’s the same thing or anything.”

“Right,” Stiles said. The research he’d done on werewolves put Scott and Allison’s relationship with Isaac in a completely different light, but he really didn’t want to have his suspicions confirmed.

Stiles walked Scott and the Sheriff to the front door. As they chatted Scott started frowning at the floor. “Where’s my shoe?”

“Hmm?” Stiles started looking around with him, but the sneaker was suspiciously absent. “Shit. Derek!” Stiles raced up the stairs, even though logically he knew Derek was long gone.

Sure enough, Derek was sitting in the center of his bed, which he never actually slept in, Scott’s sneaker on display in front of him and a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Not cool, Derek. Scott needs that.” Stiles crossed his arms and tried to look stern. Derek didn’t look terribly impressed.

“What’s going on?” asked the Sheriff as he and Scott mounted the stairs.

“Derek took Scott’s shoe,” Stiles said, gesturing inside the room.

“Why?” Scott asked peering in.

“To fuck with me,” Stiles said with a sneer.

“Excuse me.” The Sheriff raised an eyebrow.

Stiles sagged against the doorframe. “He does this all the time just to mess with me. He takes random stuff that I need or want and brings it into his room then refused to bring it out again.”

Scott blinked at him. “So why don’t you just go get it.”

“Because I promised I wouldn’t go in there. It’s his room, and I wanted him to have a place he feels safe,” Stiles said, gesturing wildly. “I can’t tell if he’s trying to prove me wrong, or just taking advantage of it.”

“So, he just takes stuff and taunts you with it?” the Sheriff asked.

“Yep.”

“That’s brilliant.”

“Dad!” Stiles whined. Derek grinned sharply.

“What? It’s smart. Totally something you would do,” his Dad said with a fond smile.

“Sure, when I was _five_ ,” Stiles spat. “You are a grown-ass werewolf, give Scott his shoe back you little klepto.”

“Grown-ass or little?” Derek asked mocking him with a serious thoughtful expression that quickly broke back into a cheeky grin.

“Oh! Now he has something to say.” Stiles threw up his hands, exasperated.

“I really do need to get home,” Scott said anxiously.

“I know,” Stiles said. “Derek, you don’t even want him here. Why don’t you give him his shoe back so he can go home?

Derek shrugged and leaned back on his pillows, enjoying the show.

“Ugh.” Stiles fisted his hair in his hands. “Come on, Derek, please?”

Derek looked at him consideringly, then grabbed the shoe. Stiles had a brief moment of triumph before Derek pulled the same trick as he did with the remote, dropping it just out of reach before backing away.

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles whined.

“We could just grab it now,” Scott said cautiously. 

Stiles shook his head. “That would still be going in the room.”

“Oh,” Scott said. It was a true testament to their friendship that he didn’t try to convince Stiles otherwise. “What about a stick or something to pull it out?”

“Still invading the space,” Stiles said. He’d gotten this far now, he wasn’t going to give up with a half-assed justifications.

“Well,” the Sheriff said with a shrug. “Not much I can do here, so I’ll leave you boys to it.” 

“Sure, Dad, abandoned me in my time of need,” Sties said dramatically.

The Sheriff chuckled. “You’ll be fine. See you around, Scott. Night, Derek.”

Scott murmured a goodbye and Derek called out, “Night, Dad.”

Stiles’ brain sort of shuttered to a halt, distracting him from his irritation. A lot of people called his dad Sheriff or Mr. Stilinski, or by his first name. It hadn’t occurred to Stiles that he’d only ever called him Dad in front of Derek. It made sense for Derek to call him that if anything, but it took Stiles by surprise, and made him wonder about Derek’s family. Where was his own dad? Or his mom? Did he have other siblings besides Laura?

“Stiles?” Scott asked quietly, pulling him from his thoughts.

Stiles shook himself. “Sorry, bro. Look, I guess you could try and borrow a pair of my shoes. Otherwise, we can only wait it out.” He pressed his back against the wall beside the door and slid to the ground. 

“I’ll wait with you,” Scott said, sinking down beside him. They were both tired, so there wasn’t much conversation as the sat on the floor and let the minutes tick by.

Finally, after 45 minutes, Derek slid the shoe out next to Stiles’ hand.

Stiles snapped it up quickly before he changed his mind. “Thank you.”

Scott took his shoe hastily and bid them goodnight.

Stiles went to bed and wondered if Derek would join him that night. He had all the nights before, but he always waited until Stiles was finished reading and nearly asleep before he came in. Stiles frequently wondered if he thought Stiles would turn him away if he came when he was still conscious.

Stiles didn’t want Derek to think he was mad enough to not comfort him, so he was relieved when he felt the familiar dip of the mattress. Derek didn’t reach out to take Stiles’ hand like he did the other nights that Stiles was too close to sleep to move it himself.

“You’re a brat,” Stiles mumbled, wiggling his fingers. “But I like you.” Derek clasped his hand without a reply.

***

Stiles counted himself fortunate that he could work from home, but at this point, he was nearly out of groceries and he was going a bit stir crazy. He probably would have been forced out of the house earlier if his Dad hadn’t brought them some bread and milk a few days ago, but enough was enough, it was time to leave the house.

The question was what to do with Derek. Chris had given him a recommendation for a weresitting service, but Stiles wasn’t comfortable with that. Derek wasn’t a child, he just had some odd quirks, and even those were improving every day.

So, he could leave Derek home alone, or he could bring him with him. It wouldn’t be a quick pop in and out like the trip they’d done to Wal-Mart. He was going to do a major shop, and would really like to get some more clothes for Derek while he was out.

Stiles leaned on his desk with his chin on his hand watching Derek while he ate his lunch. “Hey, Derek?”

Derek flicked his eyes up to show he was listening and returned to his mac and cheese.

“I need to go shopping,” Stiles started. “Do you want to stay home alone or come with me to the store? I’ll be gone for a couple hours at least.”

“Come,” Derek said immediately.

“Oh.” Stiles really hadn’t thought it would be that easy to get his opinion on the matter. “Great, decision made. I’m gonna go check the list. You can think about what you might want to get while we're out. More clothes obviously, but other stuff too.”

“Like what?” Derek asked, following him out of the office.

“I don’t know. Stuff for you to do while I’m working, maybe some personal stuff for your room, whatever.” Stiles rinsed his bowl in the sink, then went through his cupboards and see what was missing.

Within an hour they were pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store. Derek stayed close to the cart as they wound through the aisles. He tossed in a couple things and watched for Stiles’ reaction. Stiles let everything stay except the gallon jar of pickled eggs. Nobody liked that shit, and he wasn’t eating it when Derek decided he didn’t either. 

Derek helped put the big items like the 10 lb bag of flour in the cart without prompting. Stiles was perfectly capable of doing it himself, but he was grateful nonetheless.

“Stiles!” Mrs. Hertz rushed down the aisle, waving frantically. The old woman had been his dad’s neighbor for years. She was a busybody, a gossip, and had an annoying habit of calling the station whenever Stiles did something remotely odd, even in the comfort of his own backyards.

“Hi there,” Stiles said. He didn’t say _how are you_ , because he’d learned that lesson long ago. He didn’t want to be stuck here for half an hour hearing every detail about her planters fasciitis.

“Stiles, it’s been so long, how are you? What have you been up to? Are you writing a new book? Will it have a romance this time?” Mrs. Hertz asked, bombarding him.

“Oh well, you know royalty. They get up to all sorts,” Stiles said. When people found out that you were a writer, they always assumed it was some sort of classic tale like _The Book of Negroes_ or a fantasy like _Harry Potter_ , and therefore would be on Oprah's book list any day now. They didn’t really know what to do with Stiles’ non-fiction histories of past kings and queens. Maybe if he’d done someone everyone knew about like Henry VIII they’d be more interested, but what would be the point? Thousands of books had been written on that. Stiles had better things to do than rehash which wife died how.

“That’s wonderful, just wonderful,” Mrs. Hertz said. Derek chose that moment to flop a giant bag of chocolate chips into the cart and her attention shifted to him. “Oh, who’s this?”

“His name is Derek--” Stiles started but he was interrupted by Mrs. Hertz cooing.

“Oh, you’re Stiles’ new werewolf, aren’t you? You are just the cutest thing, what a good boy, helping with the shopping!” She reached out to pinch his cheek and Derek took a large step back, lip curling in distaste. “Aww, is he shy?”

“Well, he’s not so keen on strangers touching him.” Stiles didn’t have proof of that since they hadn’t met many people, but really, did anyone like random old ladies pinching them?

“I’ll just give him a treat then, so he knows we're good friends.” Mrs. Hertz started rummaging around her large floral bag.

“That’s really not necessary,” Stiles said quickly.

“Oh, I insist.” She pulled out a dry looking cookie with lint and hair stuck to it and shoved it towards Derek’s mouth. “Here you go, sweetie, now say thank you.”

Derek took the cookie and crushed it in his hand, eyes flashing blue as he stared her down, then let the pulverized crumbs pour onto the floor. To top it all off, he _smiled_. That is, if a clear display of deadly sharp fangs could be considered a smile. 

Mrs. Hertz was struck silent in shock, and Stiles took that as an opportunity to get far, far away from her. “Well, it was so _interesting_ to talk to you Mrs. Hertz, but we really should be going now. Bu-bye.” He spun the cart down the way they’d come and ushered Derek out of the aisle. When they reached the freezer section, he collapsed against a cooler door in a fit of laughter. “Oh my god, Der, did you see her face? I didn’t think anything could shut her up, but wow, you accomplished it. Ten fold.”

Derek leaned against the door next to him looking smug.

“I should probably be scolding you or something,” Stiles said, wiping tears from his eyes. “But really, who shoves stale-ass cookies from the bottom of their purse at people they don’t even know.”

Derek raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in the direction they’d come, which Stiles interpreted as _her, apparently._

Stiles snickered, then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Alright. Seriously though, as long as you don’t bite someone or hurt them, do want ever you want to get them out of your face. It’s not cool for someone to treat you like that.”

Derek was doing that intense stare thing again, and Stiles wasn’t sure why, so he just grabbed their cart and resumed shopping. They had to backtrack quite a few aisle, but luckily they didn’t run into Mrs. Hertz again. 

After they finished at the grocery store, they went over to Wal-Mart. “Clothes first, then the rest,” Stiles said, dodging an overzealous senior as they dove for the discount toilet paper on display.

Derek nodded and they went to the menswear section. Once they got there, Derek just stood there looking at Stiles.

“What?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged and gestured to the clothes. “Oh no, dude, this is your show. You pick what you want to wear. I learned long ago that not everyone is into plaid and graphic T’s. If you asked Lydia, I’m barely allowed to dress myself, let alone someone else.”

Derek frowned at him, looking confused then slowly wandered deeper into the clothes racks. Stiles ambled behind him, thinking he really should call Lydia. They hadn’t talked properly since well before he’d gotten Derek, and that just wouldn’t do.

Derek favoured neutral coloured Henleys and dark jeans. He threw in a couple packs of plain T-shirts and a soft sweater. Every item he slowly added to the cart, while watching Stiles, like he was waiting for his reaction.

“You think that’s enough?” Stiles asked when Derek added some boxer briefs and socks to the cart and didn’t turn to leave again. Derek shrugged, so Stiles decides to call it a day on clothes. They certainly had enough to last for now, and they could come back later. “Okay, let’s get some things for your room.”

They didn’t spend much time on interior decorating. Derek didn’t really care about getting a new blanket or sheets, probably because he slept in Stiles’ bed anyway. They found a nice faux painting of a forest path to hang on the walls, and Derek made a bee-line for the bedside lamps as soon as he saw the lighting section. They took a detour into the seasonal decor and found a small potted cactus to add to their choices.

“What do you like to do for fun?” Stiles asked.

Derek twitched his nose considering, and set off once again. This time they made it to the craft section, and Derek chose a ball of yarn by the feel more than the colour. Stiles encouraged him to get a few different bundles, and the grabbed a value pack with different sizes of needles and hooks to knit or crochet.

“Do you want any patterns?” Stiles said, eyeing the rows of books and prints.

Derek shrugged and grabbed a simple looking magazine with a pastel blanket on the cover. Stiles was ready to make their way to the checkout, but when they passed the electronics section, Derek hesitated.

“Something in there you want?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head much too quickly for it to be honest.

“You know, I think I need batteries,” Stiles said. Instead of going straight for the Energizer, he walked down every single aisle, watching Derek as he went. When the reached the mp3 players, he saw Derek’s steps falter a little. “Do you want one of these? It probably gets boring listening to nothing but me talk.”

“No,” Derek said.

“No, you don’t want one?” Stiles clarified.

“Not boring,” Derek said.

“Oh. Thanks.” Stiles contemplated the devices in front of him. Thanks to Apple’s monopolizing the market, a lot of them were only twenty bucks or so. “We could get one, and you can use my laptop to put some music on.” Derek still hesitated, not agreeing, but not sauntering away like he did when Stiles suggested they get a 4 foot poster of Wolverine. “You don’t have to, but if you want to that’s fine.”

It took them a bit, but Stiles was more patient than a lot of people gave him credit for. Eventually, Derek looked down at his yarn. “Put some back?”

“You can have both,” Stiles said. “I don’t mind buying them if it will make you happy.”

Derek didn’t look like he believed him, but he nodded anyway, and Stiles chose a music player with a decent amount of storage. He took his time finding a pair of headphones because he didn’t want to blast Derek’s werewolf hearing because he’d been too lazy to read the labels.

The line up took forever, and Stiles tried not to wince at the total. He’d meant what he said, he really didn’t mind paying for things that would make Derek happy or even just comfortable. But he’d been raised on a tight budget, and dropping that much money in one go would always be a shock to his system.

“That went well,” Stiles said as the drove home. “Like really, really well.” Derek hummed in agreement. “Hey, do you want to stop for ice cream? Or are you all peopled out?”

Derek sat up straighter in his seat and drummed on the front dash. Derek had a sweet tooth and had yet to turn down any form of dessert. Stiles really wanted to get him one of those marshmallow/jello/pineapple surprise trifles that frumpy old aunts brought to potlucks, just to see where he’d draw the line.

He pulled into the parking lot of the plaza that held the local shop. With the spring weather heating up, and school letting out for the day, it was busy enough that they had to park a few storefronts down. To get to the ice cream they had to walk past a store that sold bullshit diet pills, a classy boutique that Lydia favoured, and a pet store.

Stiles panicked for a second when he realized Derek wasn’t right behind him. He hadn’t gotten too far though. He was standing outside the boutique looking at the sales rack. “Watcha find?”

Derek held up the leather jacket. 

“You want that? Derek, it’s June. Aren’t you hot?” Stiles asked. Derek just shrugged, putting the jacket back with forlorn longing. Stiles sighed. “How much is it?” Stiles made grabby hands for the jacket and sussed out the price tag. Considering the quality of the jacket and the sale, it wasn’t so bad.

Derek went home with a chocolate swirl cone in his hand, a black leather jacket on his shoulders, and a ghost of a smile on his face.

***

Stiles spent most of Friday afternoon in the kitchen. He was making his mother’s pot roast, with roasted potatoes and vegetables. He even went the extra mile and made Yorkshire pudding. He wanted it to be perfect. If everything went as planned, they’d be celebrating with German chocolate cake. If it didn’t...well then he’d be drowning his sorrows in it instead.

He went through his mental checklist one more time, and when everything proved to be assembled he called Derek down.

Derek pulled up short when he found Stiles sitting at the table with their food. Stiles smiled brightly and gestured to Derek’s plate. “We’re having pot roast.” 

Derek hesitated a moment longer, then cautiously sat down at the table and tucked into his food. The sky did not fall. The gates of Hell did not burst open. And Stiles refrained from jumping up and shouting with joy.


	5. Chapter 5

Saturday morning Stiles got a text from Scott that sent him into a panic.

_What are you planning for the full moon?_

“Shit, Scott,” Stiles said when he called him immediately. “Shit, shit, shit, what am I supposed to do?”

“You’ve got a few days, there’s still have time,” Scott quickly reassured him.

“A few days? How long is that? I don’t even know when the full moon is, that's how much I dropped the ball. I’m supposed to be responsible for a goddamn werewolf, and I didn’t even glance at a calendar.” Stiles paced his office, shoving his hand through his hair.

“It’s okay, dude, you’ve had a lot of other things to deal with.” Stiles avoided pointing out that, of course, Scott _would_ think that. He was just that nice a guy. “Beacon Hills sets up the town hall for people who don’t have a containment space, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s kinda dingy, and most of the wolves end up chained,” Scott said.

“No,” Stiles said immediately. “No, no, no, I’m not chaining him up unless I have to.”

“Chris might let you bring him back there. Long drive though considering how restless he could be.” Scott hummed considering. “Maybe you could bring him here.”

“Here?” Stiles echoed.

“To our house. Allison insisted on a really nice moon room for Isaac, it was the final push for choosing this place,” Scott explained. “Isaac has pretty good control. As long as they don’t attack each other, I think they’d be okay to share the space.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Stiles said. The string of his hoody had migrated to his mouth, and he was gnawing on it as he thought. “I’d hate to put Isaac in danger though.”

“Why don’t I bring him over to meet Derek? If they can’t stand each other, we’ll figure out something else,’ Scott said easily.

“Sure,” Stiles said. “Thanks, dude, I really appreciate it.” Stiles was dubious that Derek would get along with Isaac considering his negative reaction to Scott, but he agreed that the McCall-Argents would come over for dinner and they’d test the waters.

Derek took up his post at the top of the stairs moments before Stiles heard them pull into the driveway.

“Scott’s here,” Stiles called. “You’ve met Scott, remember?” Derek hadn’t disappeared like this when his dad came over since the very first visit.

Derek growled low and long, and Stiles assumed that meant, _Oh yes, I remember very well._

“No shoe stealing this time okay?” Stiles teased. He pulled the door open before Scott knocked and accepted hugs from everyone, and a covered dessert tray from Allison. “Thanks, Ally. Derek, come see what Allison brought.” Stiles had intended to coax Derek down gentle, but he was standing at the top of the stairs, hands clenched into tight fists, and glaring. Derek glared a lot, it was one of the many expressions he used to communicate or intimidate. This one was different, there was a bleakness to the look that sent a chill up Stiles’ spine. Like Derek had already given up but would rip them apart anyway.

“Hi Derek,” Scott said. “Come meet my wife and our werewolf.”

“We’ve already met him, Scott,” Allison said quietly.

“Really?” Scott said. “I don’t remember that.”

“I don’t think we were dating yet,” Allison said. “It was mostly when I first got Isaac. Kate invited us over a few times.”

“Playdates,” Isaac interjected in a hushed harsh tone. Stiles could see Derek flinch slightly at the word.

 

“Yeah, Isaac would hang out with the werewolves while Kate and I talked. But she always tried to give me advice on… she called it training,” Allison’s face twisted as they all thought of what Kate’s “training” had really become. “I didn’t agree with her. We used to be close, but it put a strain on our relationship and I stopped going.”

Stiles climbed the stairs and stood next to Derek. “Do you remember Isaac?” Derek’s nose twitched and he gave a short nod. “Do you think you could come down and sit with him?” Derek shook his head, but he wasn’t looking at Isaac. His gaze was locked on Allison. 

“Maybe we could go sit down and he can come join us when he’s ready?” Scott suggested.

Stiles watched Derek’s face, but he gave no response to that. “Okay.” He reached out for a moment, then pulled his hand back. Now wasn’t the time to force physical contact on Derek. Just because it would’ve comforted Stiles didn’t mean it would be the same for him.

He descended the stairs and pulled out his phone. After consulting his guests, he ordered a massive amount of Chinese food to be delivered. Usually, he had no trouble talking and visiting with his friends, but today they all sat in tense silence.

“Maybe I could go upstairs?” Isaac offered after five minutes of excruciating awkwardness.

“Do you think that’s safe?” Scott whispered.

“I have claws too,” Isaac pointed out. He made it halfway up the stairs before Derek growled. Instead of coming back down, he only went down a step then sat on the stairs. Scott scooted forward to sit on the edge of his seat. Allison stayed where she was, watching them with her back ramrod straight.

Stiles wasn’t really sure what to do, so he went to his default. He talked. He asked Isaac about sports teams, and TV shows, and actors he’d never heard of just to keep the conversation going.

Within half an hour, Derek was sitting at the top of the stairs instead of standing rigidly, and Isaac was on the step two stairs below him. Another ten minutes had Derek reaching out and brushing a hand over Isaac’s shoulder. Stiles tensed, but Isaac grinned and pressed briefly against Derek’s knee. It took Stiles a second to shift through his knowledge of werewolf interactions and realize they were trading scents.

Then Isaac’s grin slipped away. “Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked.

Isaac hesitated for a second then admitted. “Derek still smells like Kate. We all do. I didn’t recognize it before but…”

“It’s been nearly three weeks,” Stiles said, stunned. “I washed all his clothes…”

Isaac shook his head. “Some scents you get exposed to so much, it becomes embedded in your skin. Families especially, because their base scent is similar.”

“Oh,” Stiles said. Did Derek smell Kate all the time then? Did it upset him every time it happened or was it a constant that he’d just gotten used to? He vividly remembered Laura sorting through his clothes and insisting they couldn’t go with them. Surely that meant Derek wanted to escape the smell.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Isaac said.

“I have to go.” Allison stood abruptly.

“Ally?” Scott rose to his feet as well.

“It’s fine, I’ll be back later.” She squeezed Scott’s shoulder grabbed her purse and fled.

The food arrived shortly after, so Isaac and Derek came downstairs to eat. Derek got a little territorially over the sweet and sour pork, but otherwise, it was a good meal. They watched a movie after eating, but Stiles could tell no one was really paying attention. Scott kept looking out the window for Allison, Derek eyed Scott every time he moved, and Isaac was trying to make a good impression on Derek.

It was nearly nine o’clock when Allison finally pulled back into the driveway. She’d changed from her stylish skirt and blouse into a T-shirt and sweats, and her hair was still wet in its ponytail. Stiles was pretty sure he’d seen Allison without makeup before, but he didn’t remember her face looking so bare.

“Allison?” Scott said hesitantly.

“I brought you this,” Allison said. She passed a paper bag to Stiles, and he found it filled to the bring with different forms of soap. Bars, powder, liquid, and detergent, all crammed into the bag.

“Thank you?” Stiles said. It looked nice, but what did he know about soap? He used the same shampoo and body wash his dad had always bought him, and he did most of his cleaning with vinegar.

“It’s made from geraniums,” Allison explained. “It neutralizes scents.”

“Oh!” Stiles exclaimed. “Great, that’s awesome.” 

“I called an emergency cleaning service. We went through our whole house,” Allison explained.

Stiles attempted to keep his face blank. “Do you think I need to go through my whole house?”

Derek snorted.

“Well, excuse me Mr. Werewolf Nose, nobody mentioned there was a noxious odor plaguing us. I can’t smell it so I don’t know how much it’s transferred.

Derek rolled his eyes and went upstairs, this time with purpose instead of anxiety. Stiles unpacked the bag and after a few moment’s Derek tossed a full laundry bag down the stairs.

“Do you want to shower before I start the washer?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, so Stiles tossed a bar of soap up to him. While the sound of rushing water filtered downstairs, Allison took the spray bottle and started liberally spraying the couch.

“I’m gonna run up and change my sheets,” Stiles said. He had another set and a fresh start never hurt.

“Why would Kate’s smell be on _your_ sheets?” Scott asked nose crinkled.

Stiles paused. “No reason.” When he came back Isaac sniffed suspiciously then snickered at him. “Shut up, Isaac, it works for us, okay?”

“What works?” Scott cried, even more confused.

Stiles suggested that Allison tackle the armchair in the office, so by the time Derek came back downstairs they’d gone over everything they could think of that might hold Kate’s scent, outside Derek’s room.

Derek looked more relaxed than Stiles had ever seen him, dressed in one of the T-shirts they’d just bought and a pair of Stiles’ too big sweat pants that Stiles wasn’t actually sure where he’d found. He didn’t approach Allison, but he wasn’t scowling at her like she was Satan incarnate anymore.

“We should probably go,” Allison said. “I still want Scott and Isaac to shower before they touch anything in the house.”

“Derek, did you have any plans for the full moon?” Isaac asked. He missed the mark for casual by a long shot.

Derek raised an eyebrow and gave a little shrug. Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he’d heard his earlier conversation with Scott.

“Do you want to come over?” Isaac said.

Derek hooked a fang over his lip and worried it for a moment. “Laura?”

“Dad’s decided it would be best for her to stay at Argent Inc. for this moon,” Allison said. “Maybe next month she could join us too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll come?” Isaac clarified. Derek gave a nod and Isaac bumped their shoulders together, grinning.

Derek watched them carefully as Stiles gave first Scott, then Allison, then Isaac a hug goodbye. When he closed the door, Stiles found himself suddenly receiving a similar hug from Derek. Just a brief moment of contact where Derek wrapped his arms around him, and then it was gone.

Instead of fleeing, Derek took a few large steps back and waiting, eyeing Stiles. “Is that a thing now? Because that could be a thing,” Stiles said easily. “I’m gonna throw some of that laundry in, okay?”

Derek didn’t help carry anything because that would defeat the purpose of his shower, but he did watch as Stiles put in the first load, looking satisfied. 

At bedtime, he didn’t wait until Stiles was nearly asleep, just slipped into the room as soon as Stiles turned out his light. 

***

After the hug, Derek started getting closer to Stiles. He spent more time in his personal space, leaning against the counter while Stiles cooked, moving his armchair so he could be closer to Stiles’ desk, resting his foot on Stiles’ thigh while the shared the couch. He also made contact with him in little ways like brushing a hand over Stiles’ shoulder on his way past. Small things that built up and multiplied as days passed.

After a few afternoons of Derek sitting right next to him while he worked instead of across the room. Stiles noticed that Derek kept looking at his books. Stiles liked to spread things out while he worked, so he’d frequently have three books and an essay each open to a page he wanted to reference while he worked. Derek never touched the books, but he would lean over them for a few moments then settle back in to his chair. 

On Wednesday, he did it with a historical fiction on a page that Stiles knew for a fact ended mid-paragraph. A lot of pages did that, but this one had set up a particularly interesting reveal, and it would drive Stiles crazy to not find out what was on the other page. Stiles wasn’t even completely sure that Derek was reading them, but it certainly seemed like it. “I’m done with that one. You can turn the page if you want.”

Derek flipped the page with one careful finger and leaned forward again. Stiles tried to be subtle about looking over. He didn’t know if he’d succeeded in that, but he did manage to get a look at Derek’s eyes. They were definitely moving back and forth over the lines.

Stiles suddenly left really stupid. Shouldn’t he have known that Derek could read? Why had he assumed Derek didn’t? Derek wasn’t stupid, Stiles knew he wasn’t, but he’d confused silence of mouth with a silence of thoughts.

Derek leaned back again. “You can read that if you want,” Stiles said. “From the beginning even, if you’d like.” He nudged the book a little closer to Derek, pushing part of it off the desk.

Derek pulled the book onto his lap and flipped to the first page. Stiles went back to his work, falling into the familiar routine of research, type, talk, research. The next time he looked at Derek he’d made considerable headway in the book.

“We should go to the library soon,” Stiles speculated. “You can pick out some books that aren’t about long dead English kings.”

“I can pick?” Derek asked.

“Yeah. Whatever you like,” Stiles assured him. “We could look at the music too. Get something for your player that’s not just what I’ve got.”

“Now?” Derek shifted to get up.

“I wasn’t planning on right now. We could go tomorrow though,” Stiles offered.

“No.”

Stiles was taken aback but the vehemence of Derek’s tone. He’d thought Derek wanted to go. “Okay, not tomorrow.”

“Full moon,” Derek said, with much less intensity.

“Oh, right,” Stiles said. “I guess you’d prefer to hang out here until we go to hang out with Isaac.” Derek nodded and settled back into his chair. “Well, you can still read that for now, or anything else off the shelves.” They settled back into their respective tasks, exploring the new dynamic of each other’s company.

***

Derek was restless for the whole day leading up to the full moon. Stiles tried to get some work done, but he kept being distracted by Derek wandering around the house from window to window, stretching his muscles and flexing his claws.

Late afternoon Derek herded Stiles into the bedroom and insisted they lay down.

“Derek I have things to do,” Stiles insisted as Derek tried to put him in some specific position.

“Rest,” Derek insisted.

“I’m not tired,” Stiles said, stifling a laugh as Derek peered over his shoulder with a scowl.

“You will be,” Derek growled.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who’ll be running around howling at the moon, not me.”

Derek let go of Stiles and sat back abruptly. Stiles rolled over to see what was wrong. Derek’s frown had the softer edge that Stiles had determined meant he was upset not just irritated. “You won’t stay with me?”

“No, I’ll stay,” Stiles promised. “I’ll be right there the whole time, but I’m not a werewolf, Derek. Isaac will be with you, and I’ll just...sit on the sidelines.”

“Stay,” Derek said forcefully placing his hands on either side of Stiles’ head and leaning over him.

“I will.” Stiles put a hand next to Derek’s so that Derek could twine their fingers together.

“Rest,” Derek said again, nudging his knee into Stiles side so he’d roll over again.

Stiles sighed. “Fine.” They would be up late and a nap never hurt.

He slept too long and woke up groggy and disoriented. It set off his whole schedule and he ended up being late to the McCall-Argent house. They were welcomed with warmth and open arms through. Derek still eyed them warily but the frosty tension he’d held was gone.

According to the internet, there were a lot of different ways that owners could handle the full moon, so Stiles wasn’t exactly clear on what to expect, but he was certain he could trust his friends whatever they did. They went upstairs, past the bedrooms and to a second staircase Stiles had only been up once when they’d first moved into the house.

Isaac was already up in attic equipped for a full moon, taking advantage of one of the large skylights to look at the moon and stars glittering across the clear sky. He wasn’t shifted yet, though he bounded over like an exuberantly to scent mark them all hello.

Scott chuckled. “On a full moon, it doesn’t matter if we’ve been gone five hours or five minutes, he always acts like it’s been ages.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Isaac said. “You’re my pack.”

Stiles wondered if Derek thought of him as his pack, or if he just missed Laura. He wasn’t sure how many other werewolves Kate had owned, but they were all scattered now.

Apparently, in the McCall-Argent household, full moons revolved around food. Stiles ate so much he had to loosen his belt, and the werewolves ate twice that. Being so full made Stiles sleepy, but Isaac and Derek were energized. They started chasing each other around the attic room, tackling each other before racing off again.

Stiles had been alarmed at first, but Allison reassured him they were just play-fighting. Both of them seemed on board and Scott even wrestled briefly with Isaac a few times, so Stiles took them at their word and let them do their thing.

He was grateful now for the nap Derek had forced on him. Stiles hadn’t been awake this late since he’d been pulling all-nighters in college.

Around four in the morning, the werewolves started to calm down. Isaac wedged himself onto the couch between Scott and Allison, virtually purring as Allison ran her fingers through his curls.

Stiles smiled at them from his spot curled up on the loveseat. Then suddenly he too had a lap full of werewolf. “Whoa, hey, hi, Derek. Are you having fun?”

Derek wiggled closer, burrowing into Stiles’ side and nuzzling into his neck. He gave a satisfied huff when Stiles tilted his head back to give him access, then licked along the column of his neck.

“Ew, Derek.” Stiles squirmed away, but Derek wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him back.

“Now you’re a real werewolf owner,” Allison said. 

Stiles maneuvered himself to look at Derek’s face. Derek didn’t shift very often, so this was the most Stiles had ever seen of his beta from. He took in the pointed ears, pronounced brow, weird sideburns, and the claws curled into his stomach, and he wasn’t afraid at all. This was his Derek. This was his family. “I guess I am.”

Derek stayed cuddled into him and Stiles started to drift off. He woke with a start to a loud growl and his body being forcibly jerked upright.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes and found Isaac on the floor, submitting, Scott rushing toward him while Allison stood, arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

Derek was growling at them, eyes flashing as he held Stiles pinned against his chest.

“What happened?” Stiles asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Isaac came over to scent you and Derek freaked out,” Scott said quickly, he was crouching at Isaac’s side, ready to bolt out of the way if Derek moved an inch.

“Is anyone hurt?” Stiles searched for any blood on Isaac and what little he could see of Derek.

“No, it was just a warning swipe,” Isaac said. “I’m fine. Derek, I just wanted to say hello.”

“What the heck, Derek? You were just playing with Isaac. What’s changed?” Stiles ran his hand up and down Derek’s arm, where it gripped his waist, hoping that would calm him, not incite his anger further.

“Mine,” Derek growled.

“What?” Stiles said. His brain was foggy with exhaustion. 

“It wasn’t about Isaac, it was about him approaching you,” Allison said. “Derek thinks you’re his.”

“I am,” Stiles said, and Allison’s frown deepened. He didn’t understand why so he turned away from her. “Derek, I’m yours, okay? Isaac knows that. He has Scott and Allison, and you have me. Isaac won’t try to take me any more than you’d try to take them.”

“Mine,” Derek repeated, a little less forcefully, and his arm started to loosen.

“That’s right, yours,” Stiles said. “That doesn’t change just because Isaac wants a hug or whatever.” Stiles scrunched up his nose and looked down at Isaac. “What did you want?”

“I wanted us all to sit together,” Isaac said still visibly upset. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Isaac, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Stiles said. He got to his feet, pulling Derek along with him, despite his protesting whines. “We can all fit on this couch, right?”

He sat down half on top of Derek in the corner of the couch and gestured for the others to join him. They ended up with Scott right next to Stiles, Isaac beside Scott and Allison on the farthest corner.

“There.” Stiles patted Derek's hand. “Isn’t this nice? Being all together? Good idea, Isaac.” Derek tucked his face into the back of Stiles’ neck, and Stiles took that as permission to seek that place again, halfway between dreaming and awake.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles spent the day after the full moon napping and watching movies with Derek. The weekend was passed pleasantly puttering around the house and hanging out with the Sheriff. Monday morning, Stiles was just settling in to get his work done when he got a phonecall.

He didn’t recognize the number, but Lydia kept harping at him that he was an adult now, and adults answered their damn phones. “Ugh,” Stiles said, and Derek nodded, eyeing the phone with all the suspicion Stiles felt. “Hello?”

“Hello, I’m looking for Stiles Stilinski?” asked a brisk female voice.

“Yes, that’s me,” Stiles said.

“This is Shelly from Dr. Deaton’s office,” she said. “We’ve had a cancellation, so we’re going to be able to see your werewolf sooner than anticipated.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, breaking into a sweat. He’d completely forgotten about the specialist Chris had told him about. This kind of thing was assigned by the government, so the wait times for an appointment were outrageous. Stiles had decided they wouldn’t be much help when he’d been given an appointment scheduled for four months after he met Derek.

“Your appointment is Wednesday at 10:45. Please arrive a half hour early to complete your intake forms.” Shelly rattled off the list of papers Stiles should bring with him, the address of the clinic, and asked if he had any questions.

“Umm, no, that’s fine,” Stiles said. He wondered what people with set work schedules did. He didn’t dare say no, regardless of if he’d had plans. He counted himself lucky again that he picked his own hours and worked from home.

“Well, then, we’ll see you and your werewolf Wednesday morning,” Shelly hung up with a cheerful goodbye and a click in Stiles’ ear.

“Shit,” Stiles said. “Shit.” He started panicking the more he thought about the appointment. In theory, Dr. Deaton should be able to help Stiles navigate the new pitfalls of being a werewolf owner, and Derek’s issues in particular. However, the doctor reported directly to the government. If he didn’t like how Stiles was handling things, he could declare him unfit and have Derek taken away. Or if he objected to Derek’s behaviour he could have him put down.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, reaching out to take Stiles’ wrist.

“We have an appointment with the specialist,” Stiles said. Derek nodded, and Stiles asked. “Do you know what that is?”

Derek wrinkled his nose. “Smelly.” Apparently, that was all he had to say on the matter because he went back to his book.

Stiles first called Scott, who assured him that they’d be fine. Stiles appreciated the boost of confidence, but Scott was an optimist, where Stiles was very, very firmly a pessimist. When he finished with Scott, he called Allison. She didn’t have long to talk to him because she was busy with work, but she too said Stiles had nothing to worry about, and that Deaton came highly recommended.

Isaac popped onto Allison’s phone toward the end of the call. “Specialists offices smell gross because people are either nervous or sick or both.”

“Derek mentioned it was smelly,” Stiles said.

“I went to see Deaton when I was first placed with Allison,” Isaac said. “He keeps things close to his chest, but all in all, he knows his stuff. You and Derek are doing great, so I’m sure it’ll go fine.”

Isaac had to go soon after, and Stiles turned his attention to his computer. He shot off a message to Erica, telling her about the upcoming appointment, and then spent the next 20 minutes terrifying himself with horror stories from the internet about specialist appointments gone wrong.

Erica’s response was to the point.

_Trust your gut. You know Derek better than anyone. Chances are Derek’s been to a specialist before, he’ll know what to do, you just have to listen to him. The first specialist I was sent to treated me like I was an idiot. I spent my whole like as a human and then suddenly, just because I was bitten, it was like they thought I was some dumb animal. I guess I was fortunate that I was used to advocating for myself to try new medications, and I was managing the shift alright. We had to transfer to two different clinics before we found someone who would actually listen to me, but we did it. If it doesn’t work out, you can always transfer. Good luck!_

Stiles continued to fret through the rest of that day and the next. He knew his anxiousness was affecting Derek too, and he tried to calm himself down, but it didn’t work. Tuesday night, they ordered pizza and watched disney movies under Stiles softest blanket. It was nice, but it didn’t relax Stiles enough to get a decent night's sleep. His fidgeting kept waking up Derek, until Derek rolled right on top of him, pinning him down until morning. 

They were both a bit cranky when they got up, and Stiles was so nervous he couldn’t eat.

They left the house early and arrived at the clinic around ten, which was even earlier than Shelly had suggested. Stiles was given a clipboard with a small forest's worth of forms, and sent to the waiting room. He went through them as quickly as he could while Derek slumped in the seat beside them. Other werewolves and their owners were waiting in the room as well, and they chatted to each other, but Stiles and Derek didn’t join in.

Stiles finished the forms and returned them to Shelly at the front desk, then sat back down next to Derek. “Now what?” He whispered.

Derek grabbed an outdated magazine off the side table and thrust it at Stiles, then leaned into him, shoving his face against Stiles’ shoulder. When Derek inhaled deeply, Stiles realized he must be trying to drown out the smell of the place. “Talk?” Derek asked quietly.

“Sure,” Stiles said. He flipped the magazine open for inspiration and kept a one sided discussion going until an assistant came and brought them to the back.

The room looked like a cross between a doctor’s exam room and a therapist's office. There was a counter along one wall, and a couch against the other, with an exam table in between. Stiles and Derek sat on the couch, while the assistant, Amber, asked Stiles questions about Derek’s health, diet, routine, and habits. Then she took Derek’s blood pressure, listened to his heartbeat and lungs, then inspected his claws and fangs.

“Werewolves rarely get sick, but we like to have a baseline to compare to so that if they do, we know what to look for,” Amber explained. She put down her stethoscope and picked up a thermometer and gel.

“No,” Derek said firmly pointing to the device.

“It won’t hurt, and it will only take a second,” Amber said.

“No,” Derek repeated, then turned to Stiles. “Not happening.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say we won’t be getting a temperature that way,” Stiles said, he gave Amber a friendly smile.

She sighed, and returned the objects to their original place. She opened one of the cupboards and pulled out a pacifier. “Open,” She said, holding it to Derek’s mouth. He glared at her but acquiesced. The thing beeped to life, and Stiles realized it was a thermometer too, less intrusive if not more dignified. “Dr. Deaton may still want to do an exam.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Stiles said. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Faced with polite gratitude, there wasn’t much more she could say, so she finished up her exam, and left them to wait again.

“Doing okay?” Stiles asked. Derek shrugged and shifted a bit closer to Stiles on the couch.

Dr. Deaton came in a few minutes later, with the clipboard of forms and a bland smile. He introduced himself and shook hands with Stiles. “And what are you calling your werewolf?”

“His name?” Stiles said hesitantly.

Deaton flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “He’s registered as Derek Sebastian Talia Hale. Quite a respected lineage, but a bit of a mouthful to say every time.”

Stiles shrugged awkwardly feeling stupid. He’d never even asked Derek’s full name, didn’t know where it came from or what it meant. “I just call him Derek.”

“Then that’s how we'll refer to him.” Deaton made a note on the chart and then started asking about the information they’d given the nurse. He went over all of it to verify, but some things stood out, making Stiles nervous he’d said the wrong thing. Things like, “He sleeps in your room? Where?”

“Where? In my--on my bed. With me,” Stiles said. “He has his own room, and he’ll hang out in it, but he wasn’t sleeping well.”

“And he sleeps better now?” Deaton asked.

“Yeah, I mean, I think so,” Stiles looked at Derek, but he didn’t say anything or even respond nonverbally like he usually would.

Deaton started writing again on his stupid chart. “Any other behavioural issues?”

Stiles blinked at him for a moment. “The sleeping thing isn’t a behavioural issue. He was lonely, now he’s not. It’s fine.”

Deaton looked at him consideringly, then turned back to his notes. “Anything that you would consider a behavioral issue?”

A few things sprang to mind, but he didn’t really want to admit anything. “No.”

Deaton set down his pen. “Derek went through extensive trauma with his last owner. It’s not unreasonable for that to have lasting effects. If there’s something he’s doing as a result of that, it’s best we deal with it now before it can become too ingrained.”

Stiles shrugged. “I was a bit worried when he first came about the lack of talking, but he’s gotten better with that. He talks more everyday.”

“The table,” Derek said quietly.

Deaton raised a questioning eyebrow so Stiles explained about Derek’s initial refusal to sit at the kitchen table and how they’d worked it out. Deaton seemed satisfied with that, and moved on to ask, “How was the full moon?”

“Good, we went to a friend’s house. You had fun, right?” Stiles asked Derek. Derek nodded. Stiles refrained from pointing out that this meeting would have been more helpful _before_ the full moon.

“I see,” Deaton said. “And what are your plans for Derek’s heat?”

Stiles’ brain went completely blank.

Deaton took pity on him and started asking more specific questions. “Do you intend to see him through it yourself or hire a service?”

“I was…” Stiles looked at Derek and was at a loss again. “Whatever he wants.”

“Stiles,” Derek told Deaton, with no hesitation.

Deaton opened a drawer and pulled out a few pamphlets. “I suggest you read these before the heat hits, so you’ll know what to prepare for. I assume you aren’t planning to breed Derek at the moment?”

“What? No, of course not,” Stiles said, accepting the literature.

“Then we’ll give him a birth control shot to last the year. We can do that today,” Deaton said. “Derek, there's no record of you having one before.”

Derek shook his head, and Deaton frowned slightly before his face returned to its neutral expression. “Well then. You may feel tired and a bit nauseous for the rest of the day. If you continue to feel this way past the next two days, call the office and we’ll have you in right away. Otherwise, I’ll set up an appointment for next month. Amber will be in momentarily with the shot. Any questions?”

Stiles shook his head and bid the doctor goodbye. Stiles was left with the papers feeling like bricks in his hand, and Derek still pressed against his side. But it didn’t feel the same anymore, it didn’t feel like comfort and closeness. Well, it did, the comfort was still there, but it was laced now with an awareness Stiles hadn’t had before. He hadn’t paid attention to Derek’s hard muscles, or amazing cheekbones, or the smoothness of his skin. They’d had so much more to deal with that Stiles had shoved that part of their relationship to the back corner of his mind, and moved on. But now it was here, out in the open and screaming at him. 

Derek is fucking _hot_ , and in another few weeks, Stiles is going to have sex with him. A lot of it.

But Derek was still Derek, who barely talked, and never asked for what he wanted. How can someone consent to something if their main form of communication is their eyebrows?

“Stiles?”

Stiles looked at Derek, and he could see the concern and uncertainty in his eyes. Stiles gestured to the pamphlets. “Are you going to be okay with this?”

Derek considered the papers then searched Stiles’ face. “Will you take care of me?”

“Yes,” Stiles said, without hesitation, even though he thought that was an odd way to ask. “Anything you want.”

“Then I’ll be okay,” Derek assured him. 

Amber came into the room shortly after. Derek’s only objection to the shot was a short grimace as it went into his hip. Stiles was given an appointment card for next month and they were sent on their way.

Stiles took them through the drive-thru on autopilot. Derek was already feeling drowsy, curling up in the passenger seat. Stiles didn’t bother to fill the silence this time, too locked up in his own head. When they got home, Derek took a nap in Stiles’ bed, while Stiles went to his office to read through the pamphlets he’d been given, and message Erica. He told her about the appointment and word vomited about his latest freak out.

When Derek woke up, Stiles offered to call off their visit to Scott and Allison’s. They’d planned to resume their weekly tradition, but Stiles was concerned Derek wouldn’t be up for it.

“It’s fine,” Derek said, rubbing his eyes. Stiles took him at his word, and they went over shortly after. 

Derek picked at his food with an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm. Stiles was ready to take him straight back to the doctor for that alone, but Allison assured him that was normal.

Despite his concern for Derek, it was a great visit. Allison had just had her first ultrasound, so the conversation was filled with the excitement of new life. When dinner was over, they moved to the living room. Derek curled up in an armchair, and watched them silently as they talked for awhile then drifted off.

“So, Deaton gave me some pamphlets for Derek’s heat,” Stiles said. “I’m not sure how to handle this. I’ve spent all this time earning his trust and now I…How can he consent to this when I’m his owner?”

“It’s not like that, Stiles,” Allison said. “If Derek doesn’t want you, he can just say no.”

“Can he though?” Stiles asked. “I provide his food, his home, any contact with his sister, all of his clothes and personal belongings. Does he really know for certain that if he refused to have sex with me I won’t take those things away?”

“Of course he does. Right, Isaac?” Allison turned to her own werewolf.

Isaac shrugged. “I know that.” That was the closest Stiles had ever heard to confirmation that Isaac slept with Allison. “But I don’t know if Derek does. It took me awhile after I got here to know I could trust you. Derek hasn’t been there that long, and Kate was...She had different rules.”

“No one’s told me what Kate did,” Stiles said. “Is his heat one of the things she used to hurt him?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it,” Allison said, shoulders hunching in at the very thought. “It’s different, Stiles, you care about him, you’re going to do what he needs. Biology will take over and he’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want him to be okay with it just because his _biology_ thinks he should be,” Stiles insisted.

“Of course not,” Allison said, looking uncomfortable.

“Maybe you could find someone else to do it,” Scott said. “Can’t you hire people?”

Stiles shrugged. “I doubt Derek would be more comfortable with a stranger.”

“You don’t have to go through with this,” Allison said. “I know you only agreed to take him in the first place for us. I can have my dad start looking for a new owner.”

“No,” Stiles said immediately. Even after one short month together, he couldn’t imagine being without Derek now. “I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Allison and Scott still looked concerned, and Isaac was looking at him like he saw much more than Stiles would like, so he changed the subject, teasing them about names for the baby.

Stiles left much earlier than he usually would, anxious to get Derek home. When they got there, he tucked Derek straight into bed and went to get ready for the night himself, before settling in beside him. Derek curled into his side and Stiles still felt too restless to wind down for the night, so he grabbed his phone to scroll through the web.

He was pleased to see a response from Erica. She sent him a slew of links with information about heats and everything that went along with them, as well as some words of comfort and admonishment. There was one line in particular of her message that rattled through his brain long after he’d put his phone down and turned his light out.

_You need to stop thinking of Derek as a thing and start seeing him as a person again. He can make his own choices, you just have to give him the opportunity._

***

When Stiles got up the next morning he went through his usual routine, but instead of starting breakfast before he called Derek down as he normally would, he sat down at his kitchen table, thinking about what Erica had said.

“Derek?” He called gently. Derek appeared in the kitchen a moment later and frowned at Stiles’ strange position. “What do you want for breakfast?” Derek raised an eyebrow and looked at the kitchen. “I didn’t have anything planned. Are you feeling better today?”

Derek nodded. “Pancakes?”

Stiles smiled. Derek loved his pancakes. “Sure. Chocolate chips or no?”

Derek looked at him suspiciously. They always had chocolate chips in their pancakes, ever since Stiles realized what a sweet tooth Derek had. “Chocolate.”

“Sounds good,” Stiles got up from the table and started pulling out the ingredients he needed. Derek lingered in the kitchen, so Stiles started talking to him, the easy feel of their usual interactions coming back.

Stiles continued asking Derek questions. Little things that needed yes or no, for the most part, easing into it. He asked if Derek wanted to sit in the office or go outside, if he was hungry, what movie they should watch that night.

He did the same things the next day, and Saturday, when they went to visit the Sheriff at his place, he picked up on the behavior and started giving Derek choices as well.

Sunday Stiles upped the ante, asking Derek what he wanted to do that day, instead of just telling him what the plan was.

Derek didn’t answer right away, looking at Stiles a bit like he used to, like he was waiting for the trap to close. Finally, he asked, “Can I see Laura?”

“I’ll call Chris and find out,” Stiles said, grabbing his phone to do just that. Chris answered on the third ring, and Stiles made his request.

Chris seemed to hesitate, and then Stiles heard Laura shout, “Yes, yes, yes, what the hell are you waiting for? As if you can’t weed your posies any other day.”

Chris sighed, and said, “Apparently you’d be welcome.” He rattled off his address and Stiles said they’d be there within the hour. 

Derek went upstairs to grab one of the hats he’d knit before joining Stiles to head out. 

As soon as they pulled into the Argent’s driveway, Laura came running from the house. Derek scrambled out of the car and the collided together, embracing tightly. “Missed you,” Derek said.

Stiles walked to the porch to greet Chris, hoping to give them some privacy. “Thanks for having us over. You don’t need to entertain us or anything if you wanted to get back to your gardening.”

“It’s fine,” Chris said, with a tight smile. “Laura, come back inside.”

Laura ignored him for a moment, then eventually she and Derek separated. As they walked, she kept an arm around his shoulders, scenting him by rubbing a hand over his neck or hair.

“Come have some lemonade,” Chris said. He led them onto the back porch, that already had a glass pitcher and cups that looked so thin and light Stiles was worried they’d break in his hand if he looked at them wrong.

Laura ignored the refreshments, pulling Derek out into the backyard to sit in the garden, pressed together under an oak tree. Stiles couldn’t hear what they were saying at such a low volume, but they were engrossed in conversation, leaving Stiles with Chris.

“How are things going with Derek?” Chris asked as he poured.

Stiles took a seat in one of the wicker chairs. “Good, I think. He seems to be adapting well and I like the company.”

Chris nodded. “I’m sure Derek’s Companionship training is excellent. It’s one of their best purposes, as pack animals they naturally adapt to close quarters.”

“That’s not really what I meant,” Stiles said. “It’s not about training, it's just...him. He’s a good listener.”

“I see,” Chris said, but Stiles could tell he really didn’t.

“How are things with Laura?” Stiles asked.

Chris smiled stiffly. “She’s very...strong spirited.”

Stiles chuckled, looking over at where Laura was pushing at Derek’s hair. Stiles made a mental note that Derek could use a haircut. “No doubt.” Laura was ten times as defiant as Derek. If he was pulling stunts like his sticky fingers, Stiles could only imagine what trouble Laura was causing.

“She has this way of calling the shots while making you think it was all your idea,” Chris said fondly. “Sometimes she’s just like…” Chris broke off with a frown, but Stiles could see where his thoughts were going. Victoria Argent had been one hell of a woman. She commanded a room like some people commanded an army.

Stiles and Chris lapsed into silence, sitting awkwardly together and stealing glances at Laura and Derek. “Look,” Stiles said. “Like I said, you really don’t need to entertain me. If you had gardening to do, I don’t want to keep you.” Chris still looked hesitant, so Stiles said, “I’ll even give you a hand if you want.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Chris said.

“I know,” Stiles said. “I only came up so Derek could see Laura. I should have thought of it sooner and scheduled something less last minute. Not everyone has a schedule as flexible as mine.”

Chris set down his lemonade. “How about I weed my garden, and you take a look through the library and see if anything there interests you?”

“Now we’re talking,” Stiles said, relinquishing his own glass. Chris led him to the library and left him to it. Stiles went straight for the books on werewolves. He read the first three pages of about ten before an old book about werewolf pack dynamics held his attention. 

He broke away when Chris brought in some sandwiches, but went right back to it after he’d eaten. He’d nearly finished the book when Chris entered again and asked, “Stiles, will you be staying for dinner?”

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it got.” Stiles jumped up from the armchair he’d taken over. “We should get out of your hair.”

“It’s no trouble,” Chris said. “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Another time.” Stiles hesitated with the book in his hands.

“You can borrow it if you’d like,” Chris said.

“Could I?” Stiles asked. “It’s really great. I’ll give it back next time I bring Derek to visit his sister.”

“Of course,” Chris said. He took a couple of the books Stiles had pulled off the shelves and handed them to him. “Might as well take these too. See what you think.”

Stiles thanked him profusely and promised to give him more notice the next time they stopped by. Together they walked to the backyard, where Laura and Derek were already up and coming to meet them.

Laura walked Derek all the way to the jeep and gave him one last firm hug. “Take care,” she said. “Be good.”

“You too,” Derek returned. They shared a smirk as if to say, “Yeah right,” then Derek got in the car. Laura watched them drive away from the porch.

“Did you have a nice visit?” Stiles asked.

“The best,” Derek said, sighing in contentment. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Derek.” Stiles felt more sure of himself than he had in weeks. “Whatever you want.”

**

Stiles finished the book that evening, then watched a movie with Derek. It wasn’t really holding his attention, so his mind drifted back to what he’d learned. He’d known that alphas were stronger than betas, but he hadn’t really known how much. Stiles also had never realized how much power they held over betas, either through comfort or control. The book had also been very informative about how a werewolf became an alpha when Stiles had always thought they were just born that way.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles started. “Laura is your alpha right?”

“Mmhmm,” Derek said. “She’s a good alpha.”

“Who was your alpha before Laura?” Stiles asked.

Derek’s hand froze as he reached for the popcorn, and his shoulders tensed. Stiles didn’t think he’d answer, and was surprised at the softly spoken. “My mother.”,

“But she isn’t now?” Stiles asked gently.

“She died.” Derek’s eyes were focused on the TV but not tracking the moment. “There was a fire and everyone...Then Kate took us.”

“Oh.” Stiles had a hundred more questions but he didn’t want to upset Derek further.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Derek said, “I don’t really feel like watching a movie anymore.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, grabbing the controller to hit pause. “What do you want to do instead?”

“I think I’d rather go to bed now.” Derek passed Stiles the popcorn bowl.

“Your bed or mine?” Stiles asked, getting up to toss the remaining popcorn and start turning out lights.

“Yours,” Derek said.

After they got ready for bed and settled in under the blankets, Derek wasn’t satisfied with just holding Stiles’ hand. He wrapped around Stiles completely, and it only felt natural for Stiles to return the embrace. He honestly couldn’t say he minded.


	7. Chapter 7

After two months with Derek, Stiles was absolutely positive that Derek could handle being alone in the house for a couple hours. Stiles needed to make a drive up to visit his publisher, and while Derek was never opposed to a trip, the meeting itself would be long and boring. Stiles was loath to sit through it himself, let alone inflicted it on someone else. So, he said goodbye to Derek just after lunch and promised to be back in a couple hours.

That was six hours ago.

Stiles tapped his fingers again his steering wheel in a frantic tattoo. His meeting had gone smoothly enough, but it was an extra twenty minutes longer than he’d expected. He’d been worried enough then, but now he _wished_ that he only had to worry about being twenty minutes late. 

The highway was practically a parking lot. He’d been inching along for hours, bored out of his skull for hours. Cars were either butting into the lane they weren’t supposed to or refusing to let others merge when needed. It was a nightmare, and Stiles was trying to be sympathetic. He knew it wasn’t construction because he hadn’t seen any on the way there, so it must be an accident. He was the son of a cop, and he knew how tragic a highway collision could be, and the danger the emergency response teams faced from the cars still trying to get by.

He finally made it past the crime scene and put the pedal to the metal as fast as safely possible. He resisted the urge to speed through Beacon Hills. He had a very distinctive vehicle, and his dad’s deputies would never miss a chance to tease him.

It was nearly seven when he parked in his driveway, leaping out of his car a millisecond after he turned it off. 

“Derek?” he called as he whirled into the house. “Derek, I’m back, I’m here.”

Derek was sitting on the couch in the living room with a slice of pizza in his hand. “You okay? Your heart beat is really fast.”

Stiles gaped at him. “Me? Am I okay? You’ve been alone for hours! Are _you_ okay?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at Stiles. “You should come eat.” He nudged the pizza box on the coffee table.

Stiles rounded the couch and sat down. “Where did you get pizza?”

“You always order from the same place. You have your credit card saved on the website.” Derek grabbed a slice and held it out to Stiles. 

Stiles accepted it and smirked at the toppings. Derek always tried to convince Stiles they should get more meat, and he clearly hadn’t held back when ordering. It had two types of bacon, ham, sausage, _and_ pepperoni.

“What are you watching?” Stiles asked, gesturing to the TV.

“Netflix has TLC shows,” Derek said. “I don’t remember what this one is called, but the host is good.” Stiles couldn’t help but agree as he watched the guy in a tool belt banter with his work crew. Derek nudged his knee. “I got you a drink, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be back so it’s in the fridge. Do you want it?”

“I’ll grab it,” Stiles said, shoving his pizza into his mouth. He went into the kitchen and grabbed the coke from the fridge. He caught sight of the sink and paused. “Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you do the dishes?” Stiles said. The sink was empty, and all the things they’d used for breakfast and lunch were laid out on a towel.

“Yes,” Derek said. “Why?”

Stiles went back into the living room and stared at him.

“What?” Derek started to look worried. “Should I not have? I can put them back.” 

“No, that’s fine, I just…” Stiles trailed off. “I was worried about being gone so long, but clearly you were alright and that’s...good. I’m glad.” He felt all the tension in his chest unlock. Derek had been fine without him. More than fine, he’d been helpful.

“Okay,” Derek said slowly. “Are you gonna come sit with me now?”

“Would you like me to?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded, and Stiles rejoined him on the couch. Derek immediately moved so their sides were pressed together and offered Stiles some more pizza.

“So, tell me about this show,” Stiles said, and Derek did. In great detail.

***

The next month went by very much the same as it had before, and yet completely different. They still did a lot of the same things, visit with the Sheriff, or the McCall-Argents, hang out in Stiles’ office while he worked on his book, trade emails with Erica, and eat. Always eat.

But now, they also visited Laura instead of just calling her, Derek helped Stiles clean up instead of just disappearing, and he made requests for how they spent their time. So while most days Derek read or knit in Stiles’ office, sometimes he said, “Let’s visit the library?” or “Can we go walk in the woods?” So they did that instead.

More than anything, Stiles’ perception had changed. Derek was Derek, his friend and housemate, not his moral duty. Stiles found himself zoning out watching the way Derek’s muscles shifted as he wound yarn around a needle, or worse, found him doing pull ups in the door of his bedroom without a shirt. Stiles hadn’t had such long and personal showers since he’d been in high school.

They spent the full moon with Isaac again, only this time with the addition of Laura. Stiles liked seeing Laura flash her eyes and growl when the boys got too rough, and he loved piling together to sleep at the end of the night.

He had another appointment with Deaton, and that was still awkward, but better because at least now he knew what to expect.

They were leaving the library with a stack of books each when Derek tapped Stiles’ shoulder and pointed to a poster.

_Special Guest Speaker:_  
**Erica Reyes**  
Popular blogger on werewolf behaviour and political issues. 

Stiles gasp with glee and then groaned when he saw the date. She’d already come and gone. As soon as he got home he sent her a message. _I can’t believe you were in Beacon Hills and I missed it! Any plans to come again?_

Erica must have been online because she responded quickly. _Yes and no. Someone kept ripping down the posters, >:-( No one saw the event, so only two people came and one was very anti-werewolf. Pretty disappointing._

_What the hell?_ Stiles typed back. _It always surprises me to be reminded I’m surrounded by ignorant people._

_True that,_ Erica said. _I don’t know if I’ll be invited to that library again, but I live near Beacon Hills, so maybe somewhere else will work out better._

Stiles enthusiastically smacked Derek’s arm in his excitement, and Derek rolled his eyes with a ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth. _Awesome! You’ll have to let us know if you do, I’d love to talk to you in person._

_If you’re local too, we don’t have to wait. Wanna grab coffee sometime?_

Stiles jumped up and did a happy dance and things progressed from there. Eventually, they agreed to that Erica and her owner B would come over to their place for coffee on Saturday afternoon.

Stiles spent the two days between making the arrangements and their actual arrival frantically cleaning the house. It wasn’t even particularly messy, but the standards he had for his Dad and his best friend since childhood were significantly lower than those for his latest internet obsession. Derek followed behind him ensuring everything that was cleaned smelled like him again.

Stiles was fussing with the cookies he’d put out on a plate when Derek pressed against his side. “They’re here.”

“Shit,” Stiles said. He wiped his hand on his jeans and went to open the door. “Hi, you must be Erica. I’m Stiles and this is Derek.”

Erica’s grin had a sharp predatory feel to it. “Hey there, thanks for having us. This is my husband, Boyd.”

Stiles was aware from Erica’s blogs that, while he was legally her owner, B treated her as his equal, and though their marriage wasn’t recognized federally, they’d gone through the legal and spiritual process of a wedding anyway. He didn’t know that her husband’s name was Boyd and that he’d been Stiles’ mechanic for years.

“Hey, I know you, come on in!” Stiles led them inside and coffee and conversation flowed freely from there. Erica was just as entertaining in person as she was online. Boyd was a man of few words, so Derek’s quietness, while he adjusted to new people, didn’t seem out of place.”

Eventually, they got on the subject of Erica and Boyd’s marriage. “Right now, our marriage is recognized in the Netherlands, Belgium, and some parts of Canada, but that’s not enough. As long as I’m a second class citizen, it won’t work. I’d really like to push for recognition before we have kids, but it's slow going. Not many people know about why it’s so unfair, and those who do, so many either don’t care, or are actively working to keep it that way.”

Stiles nodded. “I’d like to think I’m fairly up on current issues, but until Derek, I knew shockingly little about werewolves, and I knew nothing about people working to debunk the system of ownership.” Stiles grabbed a cookie off the coffee table. “How does it work if you have kids now?”

“Depends on if they’re werewolves or not,” Erica said. “Human, they’re considered Boyd’s legal offspring with all the rights associated with that. They get to go to school, get jobs, own land, vote, be their own person. If they’re a werewolf, they’re considered Boyd’s property, but they won't inherit anything from him. In theory, if he wanted to sell them to the Argents or transfer them to the government, I’d have no say in it. I have no claim towards them, werewolf, or human.”

“That sucks,” Stiles said. “How do they even know which is which? I thought you couldn’t tell until they were at least a year old.”

“You can’t,” Erica said. “Most babies get to stay with their mother the first year, and then a decision is made if they shift.”

“So you raise your baby for a year then it could be taken away?” Stiles said, gaping at her. “And you’ll never find them?”

“Some families keep them. Pass the ownership to their own children for generations.” Erica shrugged. “Their families become intertwined going back to when domestication first started.”

“Huh,” Stiles said, and wondered if Allison’s family had a lot of weres like that.

“Families like ours started the practice of naming their kids after both parents. So even if they didn’t have a legal claim, the connection was still there.” She turned to Derek with a smile. “Is your name after your parents?”

Derek nodded. “Derek Sebastian Talia Hale. My siblings too.”

Erica’s smile dropped off her face and her mouth hung open for a second. “Did you say, Sebastian Talia Hale?”

Derek frown at her an edged closer to Stiles. “Yes, that’s my parents.”

Erica squealed and jumped off the back of the couch. After a few minutes of bouncing around, she said, “I have read everything I can about them. They were heroes. Legends even!”

“Why?” Stiles asked.

“They were one of the leading couples in the marriage debate. Sebastian was officially Talia’s owner, but as soon as they were both 18, they went to get married. When the government refused to recognize it on a local level, they petitioned to have it reviewed by the state. Their case was dragged out for nearly twenty years and then--” Erica broke off again and her eyes widened as she looked at Derek.

“It took twenty years because there were so many people trying to stop the case,” Derek said darkly. “Then one of them set our house on fire.”

“Shit,” Stiles said softly.

“She bragged about it a lot.” Derek’s voice was very matter of fact. Like he was talking about a chicken recipe, not the murder of his family.

“Who did?” Stiles said, looking at Erica who seemed just as confused.

“Kate,” Derek said. “She told us exactly what she’d done. So, I’d know it was my fault.”

Stiles was starting to feel the cold clench of panic in his chest, and Erica stood stunned. It was Boyd who asked, “Derek, what did Kate say that she did? What does she think you did?”

“She doesn’t think, she knows.” Derek huffed. “My family was completely integrated. When we were home, it didn’t matter who was human and who was were, we were all just Hales. Dad treated Mom as his equal, so when I met a human who was interested in me, I didn’t realize that that wasn’t possible.

He went on describing the way Kate had seduced him, learned all she could about his family, then set the house ablaze. “Peter was hurt in the fire, so she had him put down. But Cora made it out. Laura and I weren’t in the house. They transferred us to the Argents immediately, and Kate filed for ownership less than an hour after we got in the door.” Derek looked down at the floor. “Then we learned how different werewolves and humans are.”

“Oh my god,” Erica whispered. Boyd put a tight arm around her shoulders.

“Derek,” Stiles said. “Do you think you could tell my dad about this? Could Laura?”

“Why?” Derek asked, wary.

“So that charges can be laid against Kate,” Stiles said. “She murdered your family.”

Derek shook his head. “No, it was my fault. I told her how to get into the house.”

“You were sixteen,” Erica said, horror in every note of her voice.

“She used you Derek, and she lied to you,” Stiles insisted. “She’s a murderer, and she should pay for what she did.”

Derek stared at him for a moment, then said quietly, “Maybe.”

Stiles nodded and offered his hand. “I’ll call Laura and my dad. We’ll do everything we can, okay?”

“Where is this Kate person now?” Boyd asked. 

“Away,” Derek said, settling into Stiles’ side.

“Prison. She was arrested for abusing her werewolf, Derek included,” Stiles said.

“Then we’ll just have to make sure she stays there,” Erica said, brushing away her shock and letting her fire come out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here lies smut and mentions of Kate being awful. If you would like to avoid that skip down to the scene that starts with “Stir-fry”. If you’d like more information before you continue, feel free to ask.

***

If Stiles thought he’d been busy before, it was nothing in comparison to the days that followed. They worked with the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department primarily, but there were also endless discussions and interviews with the officer’s already building their case against Kate in the town she lived in. Most of the people involved were happy to work together towards a common goal, but as with any cross-county crime, there was always that one person determined to get in a pissing contest with everyone.

For this case, that person was Officer Haigh, and Stiles was currently getting scolded by his father for calling him a “boneheaded bigoted windbag,” in front of the District Attorney. 

Stiles was tired and restless, and he was worried that was upsetting Derek since he hadn’t come to sit in the office with him today. In fact, he’d barely spent any time at all with him today. Derek hadn’t said anything at breakfast, regressing back to the mute ways of when he’d first arrived. He’d bolted from the table as soon as he’d finished eating, but he hadn’t settled anywhere. He kept pacing from one room to another, only stopping for a moment before he stalked somewhere else.

Stiles put his head on his desk and took a very large, cleansing breath. He listened to Derek pace the hall a few times before he padded softly into the room. He didn’t sit in his usual armchair, though. Stiles sat up as Derek pressed against his side.

Derek startled backward and whined. “Please, Stiles?”

“Derek? What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, taking in Derek’s flushed face and shaking hands.

“You promised you’d take care of me.” Derek reached for Stiles, then drew back again like he’d been slapped.

“Oh.” Realization finally dawned.“Oh, shit, Derek, of course. Why didn’t you come get me sooner?” Stiles quickly grabbed his phone and shot a quick text to Scott. Stiles had been planning for Derek’s heat for weeks now. He had everything in place so any important calls or emails would go to Scott until it was over, all he had to do was open the app he’d found and flick it on.

“Stiles,” Derek whined, actually gripping his shoulder his time.

“Okay, let’s go,” Stiles said, abandoning his computer chair. “Where do you want to be? What’s gonna be comfortable for you?”

He pushed Stiles down onto the armchair Derek usually claimed as his own and attacked Stiles’ fly. “Can’t wait, Stiles, please.”

“Shit,” Stiles said, cursing himself further in his head for not checking on Derek sooner. He’d hoped to ease into things, but Derek was already too desperate to even switch rooms, and Stiles was barely hard yet.

That particular problem was quickly being eliminated as Derek sunk to his knees between Stiles’ legs. Derek pulled Stiles’ jeans and underwear down his thighs and started what Stiles could only describe as an exploration of his cock, first with his hands, then his mouth. He kept looking up at Stiles, eyes wide and questioning, pupils dilated with lust.

“God, you are so beautiful,” Stiles said, digging his fingers into the arms of the chair.

Derek’s one hand tangled his fingers with Stiles’ while the other worked with his mouth. It wasn’t the most skillful blowjob Stiles had ever had, not by a long shot, but the more Derek enjoyed it, making little moans around his cock and licks to taste the head, the harder Stiles got.

“Derek, this is great, and we can keep doing this if you want, but I’m gonna come really, really soon if we keep going,” Stiles said. Derek made a sad, frustrated noise and pulled off, glaring at Stiles’ dick. “I’m sorry, Derek, you don’t have to stop I just don’t know what you need.”

Derek growled. “I want you to come in my mouth, but I need you to fuck me.”

Stiles let out his own high pitched whine and gripped the base of his dick, hard. “Jesus Christ.” Derek looked up at his face, startled and ready to pull away. “No, no, I want that too. I just really like hearing you say it.” He ran light fingers through Derek’s hair, trying to show he was welcome without holding him in place. “I could, um, fuck you now, and we could pick this up again later?”

Derek nodded looking relieved that he wasn’t giving up the opportunity completely. He dropped his sweatpants and climbed into Stiles’ lap.

“Derek, we should really get some lube.” Stiles gripped Derek’s hips tightly.

“Don’t need it.” Derek took one of Stiles’ hands and guided it to his ass, moaning as he pressed one of Stiles’ fingers into the slick heat. “You promised.”

“I know, and I’ll take care of you, I will,” Stiles said. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

Derek ground back against Stiles’ hand and huffed in irritation. Stiles put an arm around Derek’s waist so he wouldn’t fall off the chair and leaned over to rummage through the bottom drawer of his desk. It had been a long time since he’d jerked off in his office, but it used to be a frequent enough occurrence that he’d stashed a bottle of lube there. He pulled it out with a triumphant, “Ha!” and coated his fingers quickly. He started with one finger, and when it slid in immediately with no resistance, he quickly upped it to two. 

He’d thought at least being filled with fingers would help Derek feel less desperate, all of the resources he’d read claimed it was a good way to trick the heat into thinking it was satisfied while recovering. Instead, Derek got increasingly upset, squirming in Stiles’ lap and flexing his claws as he whined. Stiles had switched to three fingers when Derek begged, “Please don’t tease me, I need you.”

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered. He removed his fingers and grabbed the lube again to coat his cock. “Anything you want, baby. Take what you need.” Stiles gripped the arms of the chair, heedless of the lube and slink his hands smeared on the upholstery. Derek pulled him down in the seat so he could move closer and guide Stiles’ dick to his entrance. Stiles watched Derek’s face as he sank down slowly, pure pleasure as he took Stiles in to the hilt.

Stiles wanted to touch Derek so badly, his arms were aching with the effort of keeping them in place. He shivered with relief when Derek pulled an arm around his waist and the other up to his head. He didn’t object as Stiles buried his fingers in his hair, just kept moving in a smooth roll of his hips, gaining speed.

Stiles could feel the electric spark up his spine of his orgasm building, but he wasn’t quite there, and he didn’t want to be until Derek had come first. “Can I?” He reached between them for Derek’s cock.

Derek nodded and leaned forward to press his forehead against Stiles’ neck. He quickly replaced it with his mouth as Stiles started jerking him off. The pleasure of the bruising kisses and the knowledge that Derek’s fangs could be out in a second but he chose not to hurt Stiles was too much all at once, and he came with a moan.

He managed to look at Derek just in time to see his face as his orgasm followed. The mixture of surprise, bliss, and wonderment was not something he’d soon forget.

Derek curled around him and held on tight, and Stiles moved his hands in circles over his back. When he’d caught his breath he asked, “Do you want to go--?”

“No.” Derek’s arms tighten painfully around him.

Stiles shook his head. “Upstairs. Do you want to go up to bed where we can be more comfortable?”

Derek paused to consider this time, but still responded with an adamant, “No.”

“You’re gonna get sore like this,” Stiles said.

Derek rolled his hips and smirked into Stiles’ shoulder as he moaned. “Not sore.”

“Not yet,” Stiles said. “But you will later. Straddling an armchair can’t be that comfortable. Let’s go upstairs, I’ve got more lube and toys and--”

“Toys?” Derek tensed and started to pull away.

“Just a few,” Stiles said. “I wasn’t sure if my recovery time would keep up with what you need. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to play, I just want you,” Derek said.

Stiles frowned and shook his head. “No not kids toys, Derek--”

“I know what kind of toys they are, I don’t want them, I don’t want you to tease me,” Derek said. He’d pushed his body back as far from Stiles as he could but was still gripping his arm with desperation, unwilling to separate.

“Okay, alright, no toys, I wasn’t going to tease you, I just wanted to take care of you,” Stiles said quickly. “That’s fine, Derek, we don’t have to use them. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

Derek nodded slowly and carefully moved back to lie against Stiles’ chest. “What about what you want?”

“I want you,” Stiles said easily. “And to go upstairs to an actual bed.”

Derek gave a very big sigh and glared at Stiles. With another huff for good measure, he untangled their limbs and left the office.

Stiles scrambled after him and nearly tripped because he’d forgotten his pants were around his ankles. “Real smooth, Stilinski,” he muttered as he pulled them up.

He managed to reach the bedroom before Derek had gotten into bed, and convinced him to take his shirt off prior to burrowing into the nest of blankets he’d left there. Stiles ditched his own clothes then climbed in with him. Derek grumbled and tugged at him until Stiles was draped overtop of him deep in their blanket pile. 

Stiles traced patterns on the thin skin of Derek’s wrist while getting lost in his thoughts. “That’s the second time you’ve gotten upset because you thought I was going to ‘tease’ you.”

Derek gave a muffled grunt and buried his face deeper into the pillow.

“Could we try and talk about this a little?” Stiles continued. “I don’t know what you mean by teasing. I don’t want to freak you out again, but I can’t avoid it if I don’t know what it is.”

Derek growled into the pillow, then turned his head to speak. “Her. During my heats she’d… she never did want I needed. She would get me close and then back off, or worse do something that hurt. It was painful, and when I got upset she’d get mad at me and say she was just teasing and I should be better at having fun.”

Stiles swallowed around the anger burning in his throat and silently curse Kate Argent. Then he cursed her out loud. “I’m not her, Derek. You never have to worry about that ever again. If I tease you, it’ll be about your obsession with peanut butter or the way your hair sticks up when you’ve just gotten out of bed. I’d like you to enjoy yourself in bed, of course I would, but that doesn’t mean denying you what feels good, especially during your heats.”

Derek linked his fingers with Stiles’ and didn’t respond right away. “Does that mean you could--” he broke off and pressed his face into the pillow.

“Could what? Derek?” Stiles mouthed lightly at the hollow behind his ear. “What can I do?”

“It doesn’t usually feel like that,” Derek mumbled into the pillow.

“Which?” Stiles asked. Derek growled into the cotton, so he started offering suggestions. “Your heats? Kissing? Being opened up on my fingers? Or being fucked on my cock? Was it different to have me jerk you off?”

“Orgasms!” Derek said, squirming away from him. “They don’t usually relieve anything, they just make me want more and I do, but I also felt...good.”

“Good?” Stiles said. “I’m glad. Now, what could I do? Do you want to come again?”

Derek nodded, and Stiles kissed his shoulder. 

“All the pamphlets I read, say that every heat is different, and to listen to what your werewolf’s body needs,” Stiles said. “My ears are open. How do you want to come? Do you need to be filled up again?”

“Not yet,” Derek told him. “Maybe soon.”

“Okay,” Stiles traced his fingers over Derek’s spine. “We can hold off on that for now. Just let me know. In the meantime, how would you feel about me using my mouth on you?”

Derek looked over his shoulder very pointedly at where Stiles was fluttering kisses on Derek’s back.

Stiles grinned at him and slid his hands lower to cup Derek’s ass. “I meant here, baby.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Derek asked wrinkling his nose.

“Mostly because I think it will make you feel good. But also because I think you’ll taste amazing, and I like it.” Stiles massaged Derek’s ass, thumbs ghosting near his rim, but never quite going there. “We don’t have to though.”

Derek worried at his bicep with his teeth. “Maybe we could try it. Just for a little bit.”

“Sure,” Stiles said, shuffling back on the bed. “I’ll stop anytime you want.” Stiles eased into it so he didn’t startle Derek and put him off right away. He kissed the line where his thigh met the curve of his ass, then nipped it lightly. He worked his way in until he could taste his own come from earlier along with sweat and lube that salted his tongue. 

From there, he went to town, alternating licks, swirls, and thrusts until he had Derek moaning and writhing under him. When he started panting, “More, more, Stiles, please,” he added a finger to give him something to push back on. A second quickly followed, and Derek didn’t last much longer after that, coming with a howl.

Stiles wiped the spit off his chin and crawled up the mattress to slid his fingers through Derek’s hair. “How was that?” 

Derek responded with a moan and reached blindly for Stiles to pull him closer. When Stiles’ hard cock brushed against Derek’s hip, he made an inquisitive noise.

“S’okay,” Stiles said. “I’ll wait until you need me.”

“Soon,” Derek mumbled. They stayed curled up together until then.

***

When Derek’s heat was over, Stiles was exhausted, mildly dehydrated, and buried in backlogged emails.

It was totally worth it. 

Everything about being with Derek was great, and he thought they’d gained a new level of trust he hadn’t realized was possible. As his heat progressed, Derek had to rely on Stiles more and more, to keep him safe, fed, and hydrated. It was a little terrifying to have someone so vulnerable, but gratifying that Derek had not only let him be that person for him but embraced it.

It had been two days since it had ended, and Stiles had gotten through a good chunk of the emails, setting different tasks in motion once again.

Derek was sitting in his armchair, staring at Stiles. It was hard enough for Stiles not to get hard every time he looked at the chair, but Derek kept running a claw over the stain he’d left on the arm.

“Stiles?”

“Yep?” Stiles narrowly avoided slamming his finger in his desk drawer.

“Do we have to wait until my next heat?” Derek asked.

“What?” Stiles asked, looking wide-eyed at Derek.

“Nevermind,” Derek said rolling his eyes and rising to leave.

“No, no, wait, I want to have this conversation, I really want to talk about this.” Stiles rounded his desk to catch up with him. “Because if you’re asking what I think your asking then fuck yeah I’m so on board with it.”

“On board with waiting?” Derek asked, measuring his words carefully.

“No, with--” Stiles made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “If you only want to have sex during your heat, that’s fine, we’ll do that. If you wanted to also have sex outside of it, I would be up for that. Very up.”

Derek smirked at him, eyes flicking to his crotch. “Up, huh?”

Stiles laughed. “Very. Want to help me with that?”

Derek nodded, stepping into Stiles’ space to curl an arm around his waist and nuzzle into his neck.

“Maybe,” Stiles said, scratching lightly at Derek’s back. “We could take this upstairs, and this time, you could fuck me.”

Derek’s head jerked up and he looked at Stiles with wide eyes.

“Or not,” Stiles said quickly. “If you don’t want to--”

“I want to,” Derek said, a growl sneaking into his voice. “Now?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, then yelped as Derek’s shoulder went into his stomach and he was lifted off the ground. “Dude!” He gripped onto the back pockets of Derek’s jeans as they went up the stairs. Derek dropped him carefully onto the bed and started stripping. Stiles followed suit, and when they’d both finished, Derek stared at him, all eager but unsure.

Stiles grabbed his lube from the bedside table and flicked it open. “Do you want to open me up or should I?”

Derek growled low in his chest and started to reach for the bottle then hesitated.

“I’ll start,” Stiles said, coating his fingers. He twisted so he was on his stomach looking over his shoulder so he could watch Derek watching him. He wouldn’t be able to hold that position for long, but it was definitely worth it as Derek’s eyes flared blue and his tongue darted out over his bottom lip. 

Stiles was very familiar with the process of fingering himself, after all, he’d been doing it since he was 16. It had been a while though, so he took his time, coaxing himself open and giving Derek a show.

Derek started out just watching, and when that wasn’t enough, he smoothed his hands over Stiles’ thighs and back. Stiles was fascinated by the confidence building in him and moaned when Derek got the nerve to put his hands on Stiles’ ass and push him open so he could see better.

One of Derek’s thumbs was nearly at his rim, and Stiles’ hand was starting to cramp. He could probably take Derek like this but… “Do you want to try?”

Derek nodded and grabbed the lube from beside Stiles. He coated his fingers and slid closer. Stiles sighed, relaxing his muscles and Derek mimicked what he’d seen Stiles do, and experienced during his heats, starting with one finger and working his way up.

Stiles was panting putty in his hands by the time he got to three fingers. “Fuck, baby, that feels so good. I’m gonna come if you don’t stop and I want to do that while you’re inside me.”

Derek growled at him, pushed his fingers in one more time then pulled them out. 

Stiles grabbed one of his pillows and dropped onto his back, shoving it under his hips. “C’mere,” he slurred, reaching grabby hands at Derek. “Come kiss me.”

There were hints of predator in the way Derek stalked up his body and the way he claimed Stiles’ mouth. Stiles hooked his legs high on Derek’s waist and pulled him closer. “This okay?”

Derek hummed affirmatively against Stiles’ skin. “You ready?”

Stiles reached between them to line Derek’s cock up to his ass. “Start slow, alright?” Derek took him at his word, brow furrowed in concentration as he slowly pressed in. Stiles felt a burst of affection in his chest and an echoing flare of desire in his gut.

“Good?” Derek asked, stilling when he couldn’t push any further in.

Stiles nodded, fingers flexing into Derek’s shoulders. “Just gimme a minute.” He was adjusting to Derek’s girth just fine, more than fine, but he was sure if Derek started moving then, he’d come in two strokes. He clenched his ass around Derek’s cock and grinned at his gasp. “Did you like that, baby?” Derek retaliated with a small jerk of his hips. He smirked when Stiles groaned in return.

He tangled his fingers in Derek’s hair and kissed him again, as deep as he could while still panting for breath. When he thought he was finally calm enough, he gave Derek the go-ahead to start moving. 

Braced on arms that shook with desire, Derek started a slow, rolling rhythm, not quite steady. Stiles moaned his praise, and Derek picked up speed. Stiles nearly screamed when Derek hit his prostate, more by accident than anything. Derek narrowed his eyes briefly, and before Stiles could ask him why, Derek found the angle again, lighting him up from the inside.

“Jesus, fuck,” Stiles panted, and Derek grinned. He nuzzled into Stiles’ neck then bit down with blunt teeth. “Derek!”

Derek sucked at the mark, only stopping briefly to say, “Can you come just from this?” Stiles wasn’t sure, but he was certainly willing to try.

Turns out he totally could. Derek wasn’t far behind him. 

They both stayed sprawled over the bed, out of breath, loose-limbed, and filthy for a while. Eventually, Stiles gathered enough strength to ask, “You okay?”

Derek snorted. “Okay would be putting it mildly.”

Stiles chuckled and rolled over to burrow against Derek’s side. “I’m glad,” he said, which was also mild compared to how he felt in that moment.

***

“Stir-fry is easy, Derek,” Stiles said, adding another peeled carrot to the pile for Derek to chop.

“Just because it’s not difficult doesn’t mean it’s not time-consuming,” Derek countered. “We could have eaten burgers, or steaks, or tacos five times over by now.” He scowled down at the knife in his hands.

“Why is it all of your examples have meat in them,” Stiles asked, bumping their hips together.

“Because it's dinner, Stiles, dinner should have meat,” Derek insisted. He tossed the knife down beside his cutting board and brought out his claws. The carrot didn’t stand a chance.

Stiles took Derek’s knife and started using it on the broccoli. “How about I add some of the leftover chicken we have?”

Derek smirked like that was what he’d planned all along. “That might make it better.”

“I love you,” Stiles blurted out. He hadn’t planned on saying it, hadn’t even realized it was true, but now that it was out there… he knew he meant it. With every fiber of his being, he loved Derek, and he never wanted to go another day without him by his side.

Derek looked at him sideways. “I love you, too,” he said easily.

“No,” Stiles said putting down his knife. “I love you like… Like Scott loves Allison, like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, like Allie and Noah, like Harry and Sally, like Romeo and Juliet, if they weren’t stupid children that ended up dead--”

“I hate Romeo and Juliet,” Derek said blandly.

“I know!” Stiles cried. “That’s not a good example, they suck, but I can’t think of any with a happy ending and I want us to have a happy ending so fucking much.”

Derek set down the carrot slowly and retracted his claws. “Like my dad loved my mom?”

“Probably,” Stiles said. “If he thought she was the most amazing person, and he craved her company, then yes.” He thought of how his own parents had been together and smiled sadly. “If he wanted to spend his whole life making her smile, then yeah, I love you like that.”

Stiles’ heart was pounding and his hands were shaking, so he braced them on the counter. He hadn’t counted on any of this when he’d agreed to take Derek. Hadn’t realized that Derek would fill his life and give him purpose. Derek’s arms came around his waist, tight and secure. “I love you too,” he said. Stiles tensed in his arms, and he pressed closer. “I meant it, Stiles. If that’s what love is then I love you. I want that with you.”

Stiles was left feeling both thrilled and upset. He’d been waiting for a love like this his whole life, and now that he had it, it couldn’t be legally recognized. All of the things Erica had said about marriage and family weren’t abstract anymore. Stiles was more determined than ever to see those laws change.


	9. Chapter 9

After an excited call from Allison, Stiles was really looking forward to Wednesday. They’d found out the sex of the baby, but they wouldn’t tell him until he was there. Derek had also taken one of Stiles’ present bags from the shelf in the bathroom but refused to tell him what was in it. (Stiles couldn’t complain, because he’d had a lot of fun _trying_ to get him to spill, and Derek had fun refusing.)

As soon as they got into the house, Scott came running out of the kitchen and shouted, “Boy!”

“Holy shit!” Stiles said. He and Scott collided in a hug and started bouncing up and down.

“Scott, we were going to tell him together,” Allison said. Her tone was annoyed, but her expression was fond.

“I couldn't wait,” Scott said, not letting go of Stiles. “You can tell everyone else to make up for it.”

Allison agreed that was fair, and the group moved to the kitchen so they could snack on the appetizers Allison had put together, and fantasize about all the things they’d do with the baby boy.

Isaac was so excited, he was practically vibrating, and he kept popping claws by accident. “Come run with me,” he said, bumping Derek’s hip, then dashing out through the patio door. Derek followed quickly, and Stiles felt pleased that he didn’t even feel the need to ask for permission.

“I’ll go watch them, in case Isaac gets too excited,” Scott offered.

Stiles stood at the door patio door, watching the werewolves tumble around the yard while Scott scampered out of the way. “I love him,” he told Allison.

“That’s great, Stiles,” she said smiling brightly. “I’m so happy this worked out for you. Werewolves really do fill your life, you know?”

“ _He_ fills my life,” Stiles said. “I want to marry him.”

“What?” Allison spun from the window quickly. “Stiles that’s not… People don’t _do_ that.”

“Some people do,” he said. “More and more people are trying to have their marriages recognized. More than that, have werewolves’ _rights_ recognized.”

“A werewolf can’t make that kind of decision, Stiles,” Allison said. “They just don’t think the same way.”

It was Stiles’ turn to say, “What?” He looked out to where Isaac was out on the grass. “You have been with Isaac since you were 18. More than that, your family knows werewolves better than anything. You really think that he isn’t as smart as you? That he’s somehow _less_ than you?”

“It’s different, Stiles,” Allison started.

“How?” Stiles spat. “He’s got enough autonomy to agree to have sex with you but not to marry you? How the fuck does that work, Allison?”

Allison’s jaw tightened. “It’s rude to talk about that.”

Stiles threw up his hands in frustration. “Scott talks about the two of you all the time, how is it different to talk about Isaac?”

“My family has been doing this for generations, Derek is your first werewolf, you don’t understand the nuances--”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Stiles spat. “I see the way you look at them, Scott and Issac, and now I don’t see any difference. What the hell makes Isaac so unworthy, that he doesn’t deserve to make his own decisions? To be his own person?”

“Stiles, human’s took werewolves into captivity for a reason,” Allison said. “They need us.”

“Why? What was the reason? Because I sure as hell can’t think of one.” Stiles threw a hand out toward the backyard to where Derek and Isaac were shifted. “Unless it was that someone was scared that they were stronger than us and decided to put them in their place.”

Allison shook her head violently, but Stiles could tell he was shaking the foundation of everything she’d been taught.

“What if that baby was Isaac’s?” Stiles asked, gesturing to her stomach. “You sleep with them both, don’t you?”

“We were careful,” Allison said, a protective hand going over her stomach.

“Accidents happen, everybody knows that,” Stiles said. “Just think for a second if it were. If he had a curly mop of blonde hair and blue eyes, would you love him less?”

“Stiles,” Allison whispered.

“Do you think he’d be tall like Isaac? Would he tower over his classmates?” Stiles asked. “Oh, wait. If he were Isaac’s, he wouldn’t have classmates at all. He wouldn’t have the right to go to school. Or anywhere else unless _you_ say so. Is that what you want for your son? Don’t you think he deserves more?”

“Stiles, it’s not that simple,” Allison said.

“Nothing worthwhile ever really is,” he said.

They were cut short when Derek came into the house. He brushed passed them over to the front door and came back with the little present bag. “Here,” he said, handing it to Allison.

Allison carefully extracted the two little knit booties. “We were going to paint the nursery green like this,” she said. Stiles felt about two inches tall when she started to cry.

“You don’t like it,” Derek asked, nostrils flaring at the scent of her sadness.

“No, Derek, it’s my fault,” Stiles said, putting a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “I’ll go get Scott--”

“No, I’m fine,” Allison said. “I just-- I didn’t--” Allison rushed forward and hugged Stiles. “I’m sorry. I’ll help any way I can.”

***  
The assembled team of “justice seekers” as Stiles liked to call them (mostly to tease Lydia), consisted of Erica, Boyd, Allison, Scott, Isaac, Stiles, Derek, and Lydia. Jackson might be on the team too, but he was in the kitchen making mimosas rather than in the living room with them.

“How’s your book coming?” Lydia asked.

“Fine,” Stiles said around the cookie in his mouth. Lydia always had the best noshes. “Why?”

“You either need to finish it quickly so we can move on, or set it aside for now,” Lydia informed him.

“What?” Stiles swallowed too soon. With all that was going on, he couldn’t imagine getting the book done faster but…“That’s my job, Lydia, I don’t just do it for fun.”

“You’ll be writing a different book,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “And it will most likely sell way better than what you’re writing now. Your publisher will be thrilled. Or they’ll drop you, depends on which side of history they’re sitting.”

“Lydia,” Allison said. “Could you please share your plan with us mere mortals?”

“Stiles is going to write a book about the history of werewolves, starting from before they were placed in captivity,” Lydia said. “It’s going to be released at the same time we’re pushing our movement forward, right when people are looking for more information on werewolves.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult that will be to research?” Stiles asked her.

“Of course,” she said. “Good thing that’s your specialty. You’ll find the information everyone is missing, and phrase it in a way that anyone off the street can read and understand.”

“Most of our history is passed verbally,” Derek said. “I remember some of it, but it’s been a long time. If you could find older born wolves…”

“I know some, I’ll put you in contact with them,” Erica offered.

“My dad has one of the most extensive werewolf libraries in the country,” Allison said, worrying nail against her necklace.

“But will he let me use it?” Stiles asked. Chris made his livelihood on the training and selling of werewolves. Liberating them would put an end to his business.

Allison’s features hardened. “Maybe not right away, but he’ll come around.”

“What about the ‘pushing our movement forward’ part,” Scott asked.

“Right,” Lydia said. “We’re going to put together a civil rights case, as many werewolves as we can, demanding they be recognized as people.”

“How?” Scott asked.

“I’m a lawyer,” Jackson called from the kitchen. “My dad is the district attorney.”

“So?” Stiles asked.

“Jackson will put together the formal motion, but here's what it will detail,” Lydia said, opening her tablet to show them her notes. She covered everything from marriage, to property, to employment. “We’re going to make people stop thinking of werewolves as pets, and realize they’re slaves. It won’t be quick, but it’s a start.”

***

Fortunately for his editor, (and his wallet), Stiles found he could alternate between research and writing for his current book, and the task Lydia had given him. He found the traditions and stories that had been passed down through generations and nearly died out to be fascinating. Derek was being extremely helpful in finding and making sense of the information, so much so that Stiles wanted to push to have him listed as co-author.

Between everyday tasks, work, Lydia’s legal questions, and the continuing investigation against Kate, they were pretty short on time. As a result, it was harder to find time to drive up and see Laura, but Stiles was determined to fit it in this week.

It was worth it on Thursday when Derek shot a grin over his shoulder as he disappeared into the garden with his sister.

Stiles left them to it and went to raid Chris’ library. He wasn’t sure if Allison had told him about their plans yet, so he wanted to get the most informative books he could find before he lost access to them.

“Stiles,” Chris said from the door, and Stiles jumped a foot in the air.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Stiles asked adding the book in his hand to his growing pile.

“I have something I wanted to discuss with you,” Chris said.

“Oh?” Stiles asked, but in his head, he was thinking _oh shit, he already knows_.

“Allison mentioned a few weeks ago that things might not work out with you and Derek.” Chris held up a hand to stop him when Stiles started sputtering objections. “She hasn't said anything since so I assume things are going better, but at the time, I put out a few feelers to see what options might be available if you couldn’t keep him.”

“Thank you for that, but it won’t be necessary,” Stiles said. “We’re doing fine.”

“Yes, so it seems, but one of the people who got back to me owns a farm upstate. Lots of land, a small woods, plenty of space for werewolves to run,” Chris said. “He’s a cousin of mine, and he took three of Kate’s other werewolves when she was arrested, including Derek’s sister.”

Stiles had a prickle of ice cold trepidation marching down his spine. “Laura is here with you.”

“Yes, I took Laura because she was the alpha, she needed more attention. Derek’s other sister, Cora, was taken by my cousin,” Chris explained.

“I didn’t know he had another sister,” Stiles said. “I thought they all died in the fire.”

“Not all,” Chris said. “His uncle survived as well but he never fully recovered. He had to be put down a few years ago.”

“I see,” Stiles said, because he couldn’t think of anything else. He remembered then Derek telling him about his Uncle Peter. He’d been so caught up in the shock of learning that Kate had set their house on fire he’d forgotten what happened to the other survivors. 

“I’ve decided it would be best for Laura if I sent her to be with her sister,” Chris said. “My cousin is willing to take her and Derek, so the three of them can be together.”

Stiles dropped into the chair nearest to him. “That’s...very nice of him.”

“Of course, you’re Derek’s owner,” Chris said. “You don’t have to send him, I just thought you should know the option is there.”

“Right,” Stiles said. Everything inside him screamed, _no, he’s mine, he’s supposed to stay with me_ , but he knew really, it wasn’t his choice to make. “Thank you for telling me, I’ll let you know when I can.”

“There’s no time limit, Stiles,” Chris told him. “But I’ll leave you to think it over.” He excused himself quickly, leaving Stiles drowning in his own thoughts.

He knew he was being weird on the drive home. It wasn’t like him to be this quiet, and Derek kept looking at him too long, like he already knew and was just waiting for him to say something about it.

He contemplated starting dinner momentarily, but he only got as far as the living room before he lost his energy and had to sit down. “What did you and Laura talk about?” Stiles asked.

Derek shrugged, sitting next to him on the couch, perched on the edge of the seats. “A few things.”

Stiles nodded and closed his eyes. “I really want to go upstairs and have slow meaningful sex right now, but we have to talk about something instead. I’m worried that once we do, it’s going to change everything.”

“It probably will,” Derek said, and Stiles snorted. “Tell me anyway.”

Stiles was silent for a moment, unsure of where to start. “You don’t mention your other sister.”

“I don’t like to dwell on things I’ve lost,” Derek said.

“She’s not lost though, she’s on a farm upstate,” Stiles said. “It’s a longer drive than seeing Laura, but I’d have done it. I’d have wanted you to see her.”

“Would have?” Derek asked.

Stiles rubbed his face, frustrated that when it really mattered, it was so hard to find the right words. “Chris is sending Laura there too. They’ve offered to take you as well.”

Derek nodded. “Laura will be happy there.”

“And you?” Stiles asked. “Will you be happy there?”

Derek put his hand on Stiles’ wrist. “Are you sending me away?”

“No, I’m asking you if you want to go.” Stiles cringed as Derek took his hand away.

“You said you loved me.” 

“I do,” Stiles said immediately. “And it makes my heart ache to think of you anywhere but with me. But you love your sisters too. You deserve to be with them if that’s what you want.”

“And if I want to stay here?” Derek asked.

“Then you’ll stay,” Stiles said biting his tongue so he wouldn’t say how much he preferred that.

“And if a month from now, I change my mind and I want to be with them, what happens?” 

“I’ll call up Chris Argent and we’ll make the arrangements.”

“What about a year from now?”

Stiles pushed off the couch, unable to sit a moment longer. “A year, five years, ten, if you decide tomorrow or a decade from now that you want to leave, you can. But I will always want you to stay.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Derek said simply.

“What?” Stiles asked, turning to stare at him.

“That’s my choice. I want to stay with you,” Derek said. “You said it's not that far, right? We’ll go up and visit. And maybe when Lydia’s law is passed, and they aren’t owned by anyone, they’ll come back and visit me.”

“That could take awhile,” Stiles said.

“I can wait,” Derek said. “But I don’t ever want to be owned again. Not by anyone but you. You’re mine.”

“I don’t want to own you,” Stiles said. “But I don’t want to lose you either.”

“So, we keep on like this.” Derek reached for him. “Like Erica and Boyd. On paper, they’re owner and property. But they don’t treat each other like that. In this house, we’re equal.”

“Okay,” Stiles said. He sat back down on the couch, crawling into Derek’s lap more than sitting on his own. “I can do that.”

“Good,” Derek said, running a hand over his back. “Now you said something about sex before dinner?”

“I did,” Stiles agreed. “I love you, Derek.”

“Like Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy?” Derek asked. So far they’d used characters from 3 different romance novels that Stiles hadn’t even read, Gomez and Morticia Addams, and Kim Possible with her side kick Ron.

“Yeah in one of the arches where she doesn’t get dropped and die,” Stiles said. “Do you want to try doing a Spidey kiss?”

“Eh, maybe later,” Derek said and kissed him properly instead.


	10. Epilogue

The house they gathered in front of was large and imposing, clearly the husk of something that used to be grand, but fire and time had left it ravaged. Despite the scorch marks and sagging beams, Derek and his sisters looked at it like it was a palace.

“It’s really ours?” Cora asked, voice barely higher than a whisper, like she was afraid that if she spoke to load the spell would be broken.

“Got the deed right here.” Jackson waived some papers at them. 

“Sebastian Hale’s property,” Erica said reverently. “In the rightful hands of his children.”

“Sebastian and Talia,” Laura correct. “She was his wife, and now she’s recognized properly that way. Thanks to all of you.”

Stiles shook his head. “No. Thanks to them. They started it all. We just helped you finish it.”

“Seb is going to start school in the fall,” Derek said. “He’s going to have an actual education, he’s going to have a career, and a life and--” He broke off watching their 5-year old tumble over the lawn with his siblings. “Him and all the others.”

“We’re not done yet,” Lydia said briskly. “We got our law passed, and that's a great way to start, but enforcing it will take time, there will be discrimination, and court cases, and bigoted--”

“Lydia,” Allison said gently. “We did it. There will be all those things, and we will fight them as they come, but we did it.” She stood with Scott pressed against one side and Isaac on the other, watching her boys play with Stiles and Derek’s kids. One with a dark mop of hair and tan skin, the other will blonde curls and blue eyes that bled yellow. 

Stiles watched Derek. Sometimes he was overcome by the memory of first meeting him, even first hearing about him, and how woefully unprepared he was. But he’d been ready for a change. Derek had given it to him. Now they were giving it to the world.

Years had passed, and more years would come, but they’d started on a path and come hell or high water, they weren’t turning back. 

That path had led them here, standing on Derek’s land as equals. 

******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there we have it. I do hope you enjoyed this fic. Thanks very much to all the people who have commented and kudo'd along the way, it was very motivating.


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